


The Flame Which Never Ends

by Aerle, MyLadyDay



Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Dragon!Ace, Elemental!Thatch, Enemies to Lovers, Humor, Immortal!Marco, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Mentions of Past Human Experimentation, Minor Character Death, Witch!Izo, attempted burning at the stake, mentions of past assassination attempts, non-graphic mentions of past torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-28
Updated: 2016-04-28
Packaged: 2018-05-30 04:34:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 62,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6409033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aerle/pseuds/Aerle, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyLadyDay/pseuds/MyLadyDay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>adventure<br/>/ədˈvɛntʃə/<br/>noun<br/>1. an unusual and exciting or daring experience</p><p>Can include dragons, witches, a stolen horse, and your best friend getting cozy with a weird stranger.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the OPBigBang 2016, with art by the lovely the3vilnom, which you can find [here](http://the3vilnom.tumblr.com/post/143549939126/one-piece-big-bang-april-28th-story-the-flame)
> 
> Please check the tags for warnings.
> 
> All Marco and Ace POV chapters were written by Aerle and the Thatch and Izo ones by Myladyday

Dread filled his chest as his heart beat a mile a minute inside him, threatening to burst with the force of it, drowning out the sounds of his own harsh breathing. He could still feel it, though, the harshness of each breath as it entered his battered lungs, like needles of ice piercing through his insides. At the same time, his skin was numb from the cold with no comfort to be found in the tattered remains of his shirt with the trousers too soaked to be of any help. Izo swore he was beyond feeling fear, already used to the tests performed by people in white robes, but in that moment, his heartbeat betrayed him. He could push through those tests, the endless prodding and cutting, but they were getting closer to their goal by the day with each further experiment, and that was the one thing he couldn’t allow. 

The rhythmic dripping of water somewhere in the dark filthy corridor coupled with the heavy thuds of military boots were the only sounds echoing around them, momentarily distracting him from his fear. Izo’s bare toes barely grazed the stone floor, flinching from the cold touch each time they did, as the two guards on either side of him dragged him back into the dark cell. They were passing what seemed to be an endless row of cells just as dark and dirty as the one he inhabited for far too long already, and Izo knew none of them were empty, yet there was nothing but silence to be heard from inside. 

Izo was hardly even interested in any of them, anyway, as his gaze remained dead set on the floor beneath his feet, at least for the short moments he could even keep his eyes open, head lolling from side to side. He felt exposed with his long hair shaven clean off, under the gaze of every single soul in those cells that were just as doomed as he was, the life and dignity draining from them all with each failed experiment. Albeit barely, thanks to the copper suppression collar tightly clasped around his neck, Izo could still sense several of the other prisoners dying as they passed by their cells. He hated to admit it, but as weak as he felt in that moment, he was also aware that all the things done to him were strengthening his power. Too weak to use that knowledge, but Izo could still tell that the collar’s effect was lessening lately.

The trek seemed far too long to Izo, even with him zoning out for moments at a time, but it still came to an end as a heavy set of bars moved just enough for the guards to throw him face first into the cold cell hidden in darkness. Pain shot through his arms as soon as he landed on the bumpy stone ground, the only exit from the cell closing behind him before he even managed to think of moving. The skin on his arms was already raw, scratched up and wounded, littered with puncture marks from the countless times his blood was drawn in the days since he was caught, and the rough landing didn’t help in the slightest. 

Izo was completely sore by the time he managed to sit up, rubbing at the battered skin of his forearms, completely indifferent to the cold stone beneath him. At this point, having something cool his bruised legs came as a relief even if just sitting down hurt more than he’d like to admit. Still, with the way his collar was losing its effect, Izo was beginning to consider escape plans. He might have, at any rate, had he been certain he could make it out on his own. At the moment, he was nowhere near being certain of anything but the fact he would most likely die in this dark dirty cell. Or worse, strapped to that chair with someone cutting into him. 

Steps started thudding down the long hallways again, and Izo could almost feel the fear radiating from all the cells around him. Izo himself was awfully relieved, knowing they weren’t coming for him this time, they wouldn’t this quickly after leaving him in his cell. He still looked up in surprise when the steps stopped in front of him, fear shooting through him for a brief moment until he noticed the guards were facing the cell opposite Izo’s own. The relief came back, tinted with guilt at feeling that way while the two guards opened the cell to drag Ace out. 

Izo caught a glimpse of him for the first time in days and couldn’t say he liked what he saw. Ace was thin, far too thin, and worn out, hanging limp in between the guards. He looked like prisoners usually did when coming back from wherever it was they were taken, and this fact worried Izo to no end. Ace had been there for far too long, but Izo didn’t know just how long that was. Neither did he know how long Ace could still survive like this when the only sign of life from him was a brief flash of golden eyes before he was taken away. 

That was another thing that worried Izo; he had no idea what Ace was nor what was being done to him. There was no collar on him so Izo reasoned he couldn’t be a witch, like Izo himself, or an elemental. Whatever was hidden within him, their captors kept it at bay with potions and containment magic, dark runes painted on his skin, making it impossible to actually see what Ace truly looked like. The gold of his eyes, however, was not part of what little Izo knew about Ace’s usual appearance. It was worrisome, if nothing else. 

The hall fell silent again once the guards left it with Ace in tow, letting Izo breathe easier even with the guilt of feeling so while Ace suffered. Knowing Ace was suffering, though, was reason enough to consider escaping and taking Ace with him. A slight panic overwhelmed him at the thought of needing to take Ace, and himself, out of there, but at the same time knowing Ace at least didn’t have much time left. 

Izo had a brief moment to think of the fact he’d come to care for this stranger in such a short time, but Ace was the only one who ever spoke to him in that place, offering a kind word the first time Izo was dumped into the cell he now called home. He couldn’t help but consider Ace a friend, the only one he had at the moment and for the rest of his life, if he were to die in this place. No matter how likely that seemed, Izo still hoped it would not end up like that. 

Before he could change the course of his thoughts, the sound of the door banging open shook the room and in a matter of moments, the same guards were once again depositing Ace into his cell. There wasn’t much of a difference in the way he looked, but Izo’s trained eye noticed that the runes painted on Ace’s skin were renewed. It was a source of relief in a way, knowing that the only thing Ace had to endure this time was a paint brush, but the sight of the huge dragon on Ace’s back didn’t fail to send chills down Izo’s spine. Izo was no stranger to that kind of ancient magic, and the crude dragon filled with fine runes etched into Ace’s skin was a grand source of worry. He’d seen runestones with such images far in the north, only moments before they were destroyed for being too dangerous. 

An inkling of a memory appeared at the forefront of Izo’s mind, but he couldn’t quite grasp at the knowledge he knew he possessed about the image decorating Ace’s back. It disappeared as swiftly as it came to be with the dull thud of Ace’s body hitting the stone floor as the guards locked the cell and walked away. 

There was no point in trying to talk to Ace, not until Ace himself spoke first after his strength returned. Strange as it might be, he seemed stronger after the runes were reapplied to his skin, but Izo hadn’t had the heart to ask what it was they were doing to Ace. The knowledge of what exactly was being done to himself was bad enough. As was the knowledge that having his runes strengthened meant Ace was due for another series of experiments in the next day or two. For who knows which time, Izo was reminded that this was no place to make friends. 

He didn’t even notice he’d fallen asleep, not until the dreaded sound of steps between the cells woke him with a start. They’d all gotten used to being alert at the sound pretty early on, it was hard not to, really, but it was still far from enjoyable. Before he’d even looked up, Izo knew they were coming for Ace again. 

Ace, who was awake this time, staring into the darkness of Izo’s cell with a characteristic smile, one that Izo was given every time a chance presented itself, and it didn’t seem to fade no matter how much Ace had suffered. Only after seeing that did Izo feel a semblance of relief for a short moment, assured that Ace was still holding on, but he was devastated by knowing where he was being taken to. There was some hope to be found, however, in knowing Ace only had to endure magic rather than physical torture, something that only left him exhausted instead of injured. 

With the guards gone with Ace in tow, Izo was left with nothing to do but count the minutes or, God forbid, hours until they brought him back. Counting time in a room with no windows or clocks was not an easy task, Izo had learned early on, but still he’d managed somehow and he knew immediately that the door crashed open far too early. Something was very wrong, but he had no time to figure out what before a high pitched screech sounded through the room. Izo covered his ears, groaning at the intensity of the sound that could be nothing other than a dragon’s cry. He’d almost missed the person unlocking his cell, but gathered himself up as soon as the way was clear and the room silent once again. 

One step out of the cell and he could see them all; so many elves unlocking each and every cell with swift movements, helping the prisoners out of the darkness and towards the door at the other end of the hall. It didn’t escape his notice that there were far less prisoners leaving than there were cells, but he couldn’t think of that now.

“Hurry!” a dark haired woman shouted, spurring everyone into moving as far away from the door to the operating rooms as possible. As soon as she’d yelled, the wall and the door shattered, black clawed feet crushing the rubble as the dragon made its way between the rows of cells. 

Izo didn’t catch a glimpse of the beast, not really, deafened by another screech, doubling over from the pain in his head that followed. He’d barely had time to spare a thought for Ace before several elves rushed in front of the dragon, unanimously chanting a spell Izo himself knew by heart, successfully stopping the dragon in its tracks. It stood still for a moment before the air sparked around it, the dark form of a dragon morphing into the smaller shape of a man. A familiar one at that, Izo noted with panic, as Ace’s limp form fell from the shadow onto the rubble before them. 

There was no approaching him with elves grasping onto Izo’s arm, dragging him away from the others picking Ace up, limp and unconscious, from the floor of their prison. Izo followed as fast as he could, body aching from living in that cell with no chance to move properly in far too long, but he’d made it through the sparse trees until he finally stepped onto soft grass for the first time in what felt like a lifetime. He felt fire rising behind his back, the building slowly engulfed by flames, but Izo didn’t turn back. 

More elves waited for them, horses and wagons ready to take them away. Izo managed to push through the crowd, following the duo carrying Ace and settling beside him once Ace was laid on the nearest wagon. Only then did he allow himself to feel relief and hope that they were truly free, as he combed the matted hair from Ace’s forehead, noticing for the first time the endless spatter of freckles that covered his skin, partially hidden by leftover paint from the runes. It was calming, though, sitting under a starry sky, alive and perhaps not well, but finally daring to hope he could be. Izo allowed himself to lean back, closing his eyes as the exhaustion washed over him until he’d fallen into what he hoped would be a dreamless sleep, comforted by the warmth radiating from Ace lying next to him.

Waking came as a shock, his breathing heavy as sweat beaded on his brow. He was lying on a soft bed instead of cold stone, with constricting bandages covering the endless number of cuts and sores littered over his skin. His entire being seemed to ache, eyelids as heavy as lead, but he still forced himself to open his eyes. The light was too bright for his eyes, now too used to living in the dark, but he managed to take a deep breath and try opening them again, slower this time in an attempt to get used to the light. 

The room couldn’t be more different from the cell he had gotten used to, bathed in warm sunlight with the fragrance of lilies wrapping around him like a comforting blanket. It had been so long since he’d seen flowers that he ignored the fact he’d rarely paid attention to them before if they weren’t good for potions, that is. Somehow, though, they seemed to be a sign of freedom at the moment, yet oppressive in equal amounts at the same time. It was hard to believe that he was free again, the entire experience of being rescued by elves seeming completely unreal. He felt like something bad was looking over him to counter the luck he’d just had.

The image of Ace popped into his mind, and Izo sat up far too swiftly; his muscles burned from the sudden strain, but he paid it no mind. He needed to find Ace, see if he’d woken up, though the rational part of his brain reminded him that, without the containment magic, Ace would not be himself while awake. There was no hiding what was done to Ace, not after that display. That coupled with the mark on Ace’s back was enough for Izo to piece together the whole picture of what exactly Ace was turned into. 

It was magic of a kind Izo never even dreamed of trying to perform, mostly on the account of it being forbidden, but also because he didn’t use his magic to rid people of their humanity. Even if he could tell what was done to Ace, however, Izo wasn’t sure whether it could be reversed. There was a lot of doubt about that, having seen the tattoo etched into the skin of Ace’s back, knowing that it was part of him now. 

Even so, Izo was certain the elves would try and counter it, as much for Ace’s safety as for their own. After all, the people who’d done this to them both were humans, the kind that stopped at nothing to gain the upper hand in case of another war breaks out, whether with the elven nations to the south, the elementals in the east or centaurs that roam all these lands. It made his blood boil, knowing they were used in such a way, perhaps broken beyond repair for something that would most likely not happen. They’d been living in peace for nearing a century now, and this just seemed so pointless, even more so than it usually would. 

Izo stopped himself from overthinking this, knowing he needed to focus on Ace more than on the past they couldn’t change, but his eyelids suddenly felt heavy as his muscles still ached. He felt his head hit the soft pillow for a brief moment before he was once again engulfed by darkness and fell asleep with only enough time to hope that this time, his sleep would truly be dreamless.

The next time he woke, Izo felt as if years had passed while his wounds and aches appeared to be a thing of the past. Getting out of bed was no hardship, knowing he needed to find Ace as soon as possible. Seeing a platter of food, however, reminded him that he hadn’t eaten in who knew how long, and he figured this wouldn’t take too much time in the grand scheme of things. 

As he stepped in front of the platter, Izo caught his reflection in the mirror out of the corner of his eye, suddenly compelled to look at himself. The fact his hair was barely an inch or so long came as a slight shock considering he hadn’t seen his reflection since they’d shaven his hair off, but what made him freeze was the sight of his neck. The copper suppression collar was missing, something he knew upon waking with the surge of power inside him, but the mark on the base of his throat came as an ugly surprise. 

He could have wept at the sight of it, the vague image of a skull burned into his throat in a hideous mess of discoloured dry skin. His hand lifted seemingly of its own accord, his fingers so cold as they touched the rough patch of skin. It wasn’t scar tissue like a brand would leave, it looked more like a chemical burn, but Izo couldn’t tell whether that was a good thing or not. That didn’t matter, though, because it was a necromancer mark. It was a symbol of everything evil a witch could become; someone who plays with life and death like a god, disregarding the laws of nature. 

And Izo was nothing like that. 

The knowledge that those suppression collars were only used on necromancers and left that mark if one managed to remove the collar had been there all along, but Izo had let it slip his mind because he had been, quite simply, certain that he would not leave that prison alive. 

His appetite was all but gone, tears welling in his eyes at the thought of what this meant. This marked him a monster and there was no way of removing it from his skin. There was no changing the fact that this mark would bring him nothing but death if someone so much as saw it. He wouldn’t be given a chance to prove that the mark was wrong. Not that there even was a way to prove it.

He tore his gaze from the reflection in the mirror, keeping his fingers on the mark for a moment longer before he took a deep breath and let go, allowing his hand to drop down to his side. There was no telling how long it took for him to calm himself, but it happened eventually even if he felt a perpetual cold in his chest that didn’t seem to ebb no matter how long he waited. A discomfort at being so exposed rose as well, the longer he stood in that room wearing nothing but the soft trousers he woke up in. It was that growing feeling of being exposed with the mark that spurred him into searching for clothes, only satisfied when he found a tunic with a collar high enough to cover his throat and what was now on it. 

Only once that was done and he felt safe in a small way, Izo emptied the metal platter and then scoured the room for supplies for a simple spell to finally bring Onyx back after so long a time spent without her. A witch was nothing without their familiar after all, or so the tales went, about witches and their black cats. Those were all children’s tales, of course, but there was some truth in them. Instead of a black cat, Izo was graced with a raven with feathers as black as the stone she was named after, and he was lost without her. 

She was the first thing that disappeared when the collar was soldered together around his neck, the lack of her presence hitting him harder than feeling all the magic inside him wither away because of the suppressant. Still, at the time, Izo considered himself lucky that Onyx wasn’t an actual bird because they would surely have killed her as soon as he was caught. 

Feathers were easy to find, taken from a now ruined pillow, before he arranged them on the reflective surface of the platter still on the table. The feathers were white and so unlike Onyx’s own, but they would do. Bird bones would be harder to find, he knew, and he was not one to kill animals for spells. Surprisingly, he managed to find one sticking out of the ground in front of his window, probably left there by an animal that had the bird for dinner. Placing that amongst the feathers, Izo took the fork and used it, with a great amount of effort, to pierce the skin of his finger, allowing a couple of drops of blood to fall onto the feathers and bone before him. 

The spell came as second nature to him, leaving his mouth without so much as an afterthought about what he was saying. He could tell it was working immediately, feeling a weight being lifted from his chest as a light shone on the platter, formed by his words until a raven stood there, looking at him with keen eyes. She was a spirit formed from the magic he was born with, some might even say a part of his soul, there to help him bear whatever burdens might weigh him down. 

His fingers trailed along the smooth feathers on her head for a moment, allowing Izo to enjoy her presence for a moment longer. 

“Go find Ace for me,” Izo said simply, knowing he didn’t exactly need to speak for her to hear, but he liked treating Onyx as if she were a real animal. Unless they were amongst strangers, of course, knowing he was the only one that could actually see her. 

Onyx flew, departing swiftly through the open window while Izo sat on the bed, closing his eyes while he grasped at the mental string connecting them that allowed him to see through her eyes. What he saw helped ease his thoughts, knowing he was far from the land where he was held prisoner, but unable to determine which elven city this actually was. After all, they all looked almost the same to him.

He observed through Onyx’s eyes as she flew between trees and buildings, looking his fill of freedom as he usually did when she flew. It was serene in a way that this empty room he sat in wasn’t. Which is why he felt a pang of surprise when she flew into the forest bordering with the small town, dodging trees before going straight for the cave almost flawlessly hidden by greenery. The space inside looked nothing like an actual cave, its insides well lit and warm, resembling a well furnished room with no windows, even if the furniture was simpler than what was in Izo’s room. 

Onyx landed on a shelf, eyes trained at the people in front of her for Izo to see. Relief washed over him as he saw Ace lying on the bed, face down and the image on his back bare on display. He was obviously sleeping, that much was clear to Izo, but he was confused by the three people observing him. One of them was the woman that helped them escape, her black hair and big eyes recognizable, but she looked distressed now as opposed to the determination she wore back in the prison. The other two wore expressions quite similar to hers, and that did nothing to calm Izo, prompting him to reach for Onyx’s hearing as well.

“There is no way to remove it,” one of them said, doing nothing to keep his voice down. “We cannot let him leave in this state.”

“Are you suggesting we murder him?” the woman that saved them asked, her voice and gaze turning almost ice cold, making it clear for Izo to see she was opposed to whatever was going on.

“There is nothing more we can do!” the third elf voiced. “He can’t control it.”

Izo felt sick at hearing that, beckoning Onyx back before he heard more vile things he never would have expected from elves. With their current reputation as pacifists, it was easy to forget that they’d been in more wars until a century ago than humans could ever imagine. 

As soon as he knew she was on the way back, Izo started making a plan of escape once again, this time with more urgency. Knowing the truth about Ace, he found it easier to plan and form a defense against what the elves seemed to think of as too great an evil. However, without proper supplies, Izo couldn’t do much for Ace other than improvising a protective charm that would hopefully hold just long enough for them to get away. 

The list of supplies this time, at least, was a short one; several candles were melted immediately, the wax formed into small square plates, molded against a string taken from a pair of trousers from the wardrobe until it resembled a rudimentary necklace. It didn’t take long for the wax to cool, allowing Izo to carve the needed runes into each plate, muttering the charms of containment magic over every single plate. He wasn’t frugal with the magic used, layering spell over spell to make this poor excuse of a magic artifact as powerful as possible to counter the monster wanting to break through. 

Izo knew it would hold, at least for long enough. He was lucky enough to find clothes for both of them in his room, leaving it only to gather some food for the journey ahead before he returned to cast some protective spells on each single piece of clothing he took. The entire preparation didn’t last all that long, not now that he was this determined to keep the two of them alive. With Onyx as his scout, Izo left the room for the last time, his step quick as he moved with determination towards the cave. 

Thanks to Onyx, he knew Ace was alone this time, though there was no knowing how long the elves would stay away, so he hurried as much as he could. Seeing Ace with his own eyes, alive and sleeping peacefully, was a monumental relief, but Izo wasted no time in fastening his improvised necklace around Ace’s neck before undoing the elven magic that kept him asleep. This part couldn’t be rushed, but Ace responded quickly, his eyes fluttering open in what felt like no time at all. The several moments of confusion on his part were overshadowed by Izo’s worry as he waited to see whether the necklace would hold. 

“Izo?” Ace asked, his voice quiet and confused, his eyes betraying the lack of understanding what the situation was. “What’s going on?”

“I’m getting you out of here,” Izo told him, pulling him to his feet as he sent Onyx out to survey the area. “We’re going to be free,” he added as he gave Ace some clothes with a quick explanation on how necessary the necklace was. 

He led the way out with Ace close on his heels soon after, knowing that Ace had enough faith in him to get them to safety.

* * *

The white marble of the fountain was cold even through several layers of fabric between it and Izo, but he didn’t really care about that right now. Neither did Ace, sitting next to Izo with pure rage radiating from him. He was silent, but his fists were clenched so hard, his knuckles turned a concerning shade of white. Izo could understand that, considering he felt the same about their situation, even if he wasn’t thinking of punching someone. The situation was, to put it simply, all their worldly possessions sitting in two pathetic looking bags at their feet as they watched the rest of their troupe leave the town with all the horses, costumes, money and food. Their _ex_ -troupe, Izo corrected himself, because they had just been left behind. In a foreign town with no money or food, no less.

This was far from the worst situation they’d been in during the last couple of decades, but that didn’t make things any more pleasurable at the moment. Mostly because they were, once again, starting from nothing. Somehow that seemed to be a common development for the two of them since their escape from the elven camp all those years and decades ago. Honestly, it was getting pretty old as far as Izo was concerned. He could tell Ace shared the sentiment as well, but they were severely lacking when it came to an actual plan. Well, a long term plan, really.

Hooves thudding against the stone ground of the square made them both look up, the sound too similar to boots on stone for either of their liking, revealing a rich looking man on a horse passing them by. With a passing interest, Izo noted the man was fairly attractive, but that was the extent of it, his attention back at the situation at hand.

“I’m getting drunk,” Izo said as soon as the troupe’s wagon and horses were out of sight, affirming that they were not coming back. His plan seemed like a sound one for now, even if it wasn’t exactly helpful in the long run. Probably the opposite, if he gave it too much thought which he refused to do at the moment.

“You don’t have the money for that,” Ace told him in a distracted kind of tone, stating the obvious for the simple purpose of contributing at least something to the conversation. Glancing over, Izo noticed Ace’s eyes were still glued to the horseman as he approached the nearest tavern then disappeared around the corner, probably towards the stables. That sudden interest set off several warnings with Izo, but that in itself wasn’t unusual when it came to Ace. Perhaps that should have been concerning, but Izo had gotten used to it by now; this sudden focus followed by ideas of a very creative nature was something that had gotten them out of trouble several times before. Of course, it had also gotten them into trouble several times more so, while Izo was used to it, he wasn’t entirely sure whether he was a fan or not.

“Please, when has that stopped me?” Izo replied with a scoff, earning a snort in reply. It was easy to forget, sometimes, that Ace knew Izo just as well as Izo knew Ace.

“Well…” Ace started, the teasing obvious in his voice, and Izo immediately knew which unfortunate incident Ace was aiming to bring up yet again.

“That was one time!” Izo exclaimed, slightly frustrated because that one time with the forest trolls was an incident he wished to forget, if only Ace would let him. “Meet up back here in the morning?”

“It would be good if you’re ready to leave on short notice,” Ace said, distracted once again as he stared off into the direction of the nearest tavern. That in itself wasn’t much cause for worry; to Izo, at least, for the simple fact that he was used to Ace’s antics. With that, Izo stood and picked up his bag, stretching a bit to get the stiffness out of his back from sitting on stone for so long before heading to the same tavern Ace was looking at.

“Hey, leave your bag here,” Ace called after him, but didn’t actually redirect his gaze. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye on it.”

This request was slightly more out of the ordinary, but Izo simply lifted an eyebrow in enquiry before returning his bag in front of Ace. Izo left it at that, opting for simply walking away with the intent of getting something to drink before even thinking about what was going on in Ace’s head. After all, he had bigger things on his mind, such as getting some money so they could leave the city and maybe start their own troupe. A drink first, though.

The tavern was fairly small, situated on the ground floor of a small inn, but it was well kept and obviously well visited considering it was right next to the main square. There was a good number of people already inside, something that made Izo mentally congratulate himself for the good choice. He took a moment to glance around, searching for someone that looked rich enough to afford a couple of drinks for Izo as well. His gaze stopped on the horseman they’d seen only moments before; he certainly seemed like a wealthy man, if his clothes were anything to go by. Still, Izo didn’t linger on him, looking further until he settled on a man by the bar.

There was no mistaking the fine fabric of his clothes, even if they were sewn to look simple and unremarkable. At the same time, his hair was meticulously styled and his beard groomed, setting him apart from most people in the room to a keen observer, and Izo certainly was one. Setting his sights on this particular man, Izo entered the tavern fully, making his presence known and immediately feeling all eyes on him. He was used to that, particularly while still dressed in his costume from the performance earlier, one designed to bring everyone’s attention to him. Part of it must have been the paint on his face, the red line going down the middle of his lower lip, widening as it went down his chin and throat, successfully covering up his mark. That was mostly the reason Izo used it, finding no plausible reason for a high collar on his costume given the type of his performance. Still, no matter how good it looked, having nothing but paint covering the mark was making him feel uneasy.

The man at the bar had yet to look away from Izo, even when everyone else’s attention shifted as he didn’t pay them any mind. Izo was next to him in a matter of moments, sliding onto a stool right next to the stranger as he contemplated what to say to get the man’s attention enough to get a drink.

“I’ve watched your performance on the square earlier,” the man spoke, saving Izo the trouble of starting a conversation. “It was quite spectacular,” he added with a grin, betraying that he was far more impressed than his words let on. Izo was used to compliments, but this man’s obvious excitement was usually seen in children that still thought magic was something beautiful. Not many adults still had that way of thinking, at least not in the lands of men.

“Thank you,” Izo replied with genuine gratitude, offering a smile along with his words. Asking for a drink might be easier than expected, he was certain at this point.

“Allow me to buy you a drink,” the man said, once again saving Izo the trouble. He was already waving down the barkeep, beckoning him to come closer. Izo could only smile further as he ordered his ale, watching as the stranger did so as well.

“Where are my manners!” the stranger exclaimed suddenly, drawing Izo’s attention once again. “My name is Thatch,” he added, offering his hand with another grin, waiting for Izo to introduce himself.

“Izo,” he said, shaking Thatch’s hand. At this point, Izo found himself oddly charmed, something that didn’t happen very often these days, at least in this part of the world. An introduction was all it took to start a conversation with Thatch and keep it flowing with no trouble at all, to Izo’s utter surprise. He hadn’t planned on this, save for the drinking part of the entire situation, but speaking to Thatch was incredibly fun, not to mention refreshing. Thatch was fascinated with Izo’s magic, even if the performance showed only a small part of what he was actually capable of. At the same time, Thatch hadn’t mentioned being a magic user of his own, evading those questions with such ease, Izo almost missed the deflections. He didn’t press, though, knowing he would do much the same had Thatch asked more specific questions.

By the time Izo even realised Thatch’s tactic of not answering magic related questions, he no longer really cared. They’d had more drinks than Izo actually planned for, though, in what was probably too short of a time.

The invitation to join Thatch in his room upstairs had come soon after, though it was hardly a surprise; no more than Izo accepting it with a smile before Thatch led the way, steadier than he perhaps should have been after drinking as much as they did. Izo couldn’t really say anything, though, seeing as he was the same having built up his alcohol tolerance ages ago.

Izo felt his hand being grasped as they made it to the stairs, Thatch leading him up the stairs and down the hall, to the door on the far wall. Their step seemed to quicken as soon as they were out of sight from the tavern, and Izo felt himself smile yet again, finding this eagerness completely endearing. He couldn’t help the fact he adored being, well, adored. Especially by someone who liked him with the magic included.

So he didn’t hold himself back as soon as the door was open, pushing Thatch into the room and kicking the door shut before leaning up to kiss Thatch. There was no mistaking the grin that Thatch’s lips formed for a moment as his arms circled around Izo’s middle. Barely a moment later, Izo’s back hit the door as Thatch’s hands moved to his hips, but their lips never parted. It was at this point that Izo realised how long it had been since he’d done this and how much he missed it.

Izo’s hands trailed down Thatch’s chest, his touch feather light before he reached the fastening on Thatch’s trousers, undoing the strings with slow calculated movements. He pulled back just a tiny bit, enough to catch Thatch’s lower lip between his teeth and bite, eliciting a laugh from Thatch. Thatch’s hands moved swiftly then, touching as much of Izo as they could before they tangled in his hair, cradling the back of his neck as he kissed Izo, with more fire this time, leaning into Izo as far as he could. His thumbs trailed Izo’s jawline gently before moving down to caress his neck.

Izo moaned at the sensation for a moment before he felt the movement of Thatch’s thumbs smudge the paint on his throat and he couldn’t help but freeze at the feeling, suddenly feeling as sober as he’d been before coming to the tavern. Thatch noticed the shift immediately, pulling back to look into Izo’s eyes with concern.

“We don’t have to do this if…” Thatch started, breaking eye contact for barely a second to gaze where his hands were. “What is that?” he asked, thumb stroking over the mark, and Izo broke out into a cold sweat.

“Shit,” he breathed, frozen in panic because Thatch saw the mark, his fingers were right on it, and Izo suddenly realized Thatch could strangle him on the spot. “Shit!” he repeated, louder this time before he pushed Thatch away, following the movement by lashing out until his fist connected with Thatch’s nose, making him double over.

“What the fuck!” Thatch shouted, eyes watering as he backed up, bumping into the end table and sending it crashing to the floor. A coin purse went with it, spilling gold coins all over the carpet with a muffled sound. Izo was already looking for an exit, other than the door which was blocked by Thatch, but came up with nothing other than an open window on the other side. Some of the coins had rolled away closer to that same window, and Izo didn’t spare it a second thought before he bent over to scoop up some of them on his way to the only exit available.

“Izo, stop!” Thatch called out after him, voice weird and awfully nasal, making Izo feel bad just a bit for punching him that hard. “Please!”

Izo ignored him, hurrying as far from Thatch as possible in the small room with hands full of gold. He only spared a quick glance at Thatch over his shoulder, too panicked to note anything other than Thatch straightening and ready to follow. His heart threatened to burst from beating too fast as Izo stepped onto the windowsill with one foot and launched himself out, completely forgetting to check what was underneath the window.

“Izo!” Thatch yelled, leaning out over the windowsill, staring down at Izo just as he landed into a pile of hay next to the inn’s stables. There was hay everywhere, sticking out of his hair and poking him through his clothes, but Izo had no time to worry about that as Thatch disappeared back into his room, probably to run down through the tavern and outside the inn to follow after him. Izo rid himself of most of the hay he could reach, just as an afterthought, as he got up, looking around frantically in an attempt to find somewhere to hide before Thatch rounded up a mob to catch him.

“Izo, get on!”

Salvation came in the form of Ace, as it often did, beckoning him to mount a suspiciously familiar looking horse, their bags already fastened to the saddle. Ace looked almost as frazzled and messy as Izo felt, but he took Ace’s hand and hopped onto the horse, settling behind Ace and circling his arms around Ace’s waist for stability before they were off, horseshoes thundering against the stone ground of the city as the distance between them and the inn grew with every panicked heartbeat in Izo’s chest.

He found enough courage to look back towards the inn, whether to search for Thatch or an enraged mob, he didn’t know, but he saw nothing other than a single figure standing in front of the building they’d just left. With his heart beating as fast as it was and his hands shaking despite the death grip he had on the fabric of Ace’s tunic, Izo had a hard time deciding whether the lack of a mob was a good thing or not.


	2. Chapter 2

Marco wasn’t sure anymore when was the last time he had eaten, or how long he had been wandering around these woods by himself, just that it seemed a long time in his still very short life. The only thing he knew when he saw a man sitting by a campfire, was that any traveller must have food. The man was alone and elderly, but Marco saw his sword and his armour. This man was a knight, which meant two things. One, he was probably rich, or at least would have money and good food on him. Two… He was a well trained warrior, and if Marco got caught, he was dead.

His stomach decided for him when it rumbled loudly, and Marco cut the knot.

The knight seemed to have dozed off, which gave Marco the opportunity to steal food or money to buy food and be out of there before the knight noticed. Slowly creeping closer, Marco was glad his bare feet didn’t make any noise on the mossy ground, and he was careful not to step on any twigs. The knight’s bag was almost within reach, and Marco was probably imagining it, but it was like he could already smell the food inside of it. His stomach growled again.

Lifting up the flap of the bag, Marco’s eyes widened. He had hit the jackpot. Bread, vegetables, even meat. Marco tried hard not to drool. He knew he should grab the food and leave before he got caught, but the bread smelled like it was freshly baked, and Marco couldn’t wait. Grabbing a piece of it with one hand and dried meat with the other, he started to stuff his face. It tasted so good.

“Careful, you don’t want to choke,” a deep voice suddenly said behind him.

Almost doing that exact thing, Marco whipped around, coughing. The knight had woken up and was looking at him amusedly. Marco stopped chewing as he stared up the knight who was still sitting where he had been when Marco arrived. His whole body was tense, ready to run at the first sign of danger, as he had taught himself over the past years. His hands, however, were still holding the food.

“You shouldn’t eat too much at once,” the knight continued. “You’ll get stomach aches.”

Marco’s heart was beating fast, and his eyes flicked over to the knight’s sword, which was lying on the ground.

“If you’re worried I’ll attack you, you have nothing to fear,” the knight said. “The knight’s code forbids us from attacking non-knights, and we live to protect widows and orphans. If you’re thinking of attacking  _ me _ , however… Well, I doubt you can lift my sword with those scrawny arms of yours. So you really should eat.”

Marco was torn. On the one hand, the knight had given him pretty much a go ahead to eat his food. But what if it was a trap?

The knight rose and walked up to Marco, who stood rooted to the ground and followed every movement with his eyes. The knight seemed so much larger up close.

Instead of hitting Marco, however, the knight merely grabbed an apple from his bag and sat down as he took out a knife and cut off a piece that he popped into his mouth. When Marco still didn’t move, he gestured around invitingly. “Sit. Eat. I’m not going to hurt you.”

Slowly and still warily, Marco sat down, close to the bag, but as far from the knight as possible. He finished the bread and the meat in his hands, and while it was tempting to eat more, he followed up on the knight’s advice and only ate an apple after.

The knight took a sack of water and after having drunk from it, he handed it to Marco, who drunk hesitantly. “I’m Edward,” the knight introduced himself.

Marco kept silent. He had the full intention to leave, but a full tummy made him drowsy, and the fire was nice and warm. He yawned.

“It’s rather late for someone your age,” Edward said.

Marco nodded, his eyelids falling shut. He tried to stay awake, but when a warm mantle was put over him, he couldn’t fight the sleep anymore.

* * *

Marco woke up because he felt like he was falling. A large hand managed to keep him seated, however, and pushed him back on the horse.

Wait, what?

Marco blinked his eyes against the light and looked around. He was sitting on the back of a horse, in front of the knight from last night. Sir Edward, he remembered. But why was he here?

“Ah, good. You’re awake.” Edward stopped the horse. Marco had to half-turn around to see him. Edward smiled in a friendly manner, but Marco could only focus on his huge moustache. How did he miss that last night?

“I’m not kidnapping you,” Edward continued, “but you look like you could use a bath. My castle is just past that hill.” He pointed ahead.

Marco looked down. He had sat on a horse before, but this one was much bigger than the ones he remembered.

Edward saw him look and dismounted. “Do you know how to ride?” he asked as he handed Marco the reigns.

Marco’s eyes widened, and he nodded. Quickly, he hopped into the saddle and gently indicated for the horse to start walking. The horse looked at his owner for a moment, but when Edward petted it gently with his enormous hand, it listened to Marco.

Soon, the castle came into view. Marco looked up in awe as it towered above him, growing with every step they took closer. He had seen castles from a distance, but never up close. Edward smiled at him, and Marco quickly closed his mouth, looking away slightly embarrassed.

He could just gallop away, but he doubted the horse would listen to him. Besides, a warm bath sounded quite appealing at the moment, and Edward had done nothing to earn his distrust yet. Maybe he would give Marco more food! Just the thought almost made him drool, and his stomach growled.

Edwards chuckled amusedly beside him.

* * *

Just a bath and some food turned into a bath and food every day. Marco had gotten his own room in Sir Edward’s castle, though at first, he regarded it only as a temporary sleeping place. Aside from food and a place to sleep, Sir Edward had taken it upon himself to teach Marco about the world. Reading and writing were not the only things Sir Edward taught him, however. When Marco had gained some weight from eating well every day, Edward took him outside for lessons in sword fighting. He already knew how to horseback ride, but Edward gave him a horse of his own, something he had never had. He called the animal Phoenix, even if he didn’t know why. It just seemed to fit. 

A year passed quickly before Marco realised that Sir Edward was raising him like his own son. All the servants treated him like he was the son of their lord as well, which had taken some getting used to. 

When Marco was eight, he discovered his powers of healing. He had cut himself on a knife while sharpening it, but before he could get a piece of cloth to staunch the bleeding, a soft blue light appeared and lit up his hand. When the light disappeared, the cut was no longer visible, only  dried blood remained. He showed his newfound power to Edward by cutting his hand in front of him, and afterwards Edward gave him books on the subject and told him how proud he was of Marco. 

Marco became Edward’s page and later his squire. He knew how to handle a sword, how to shoot a bow and arrow, how to hunt, he knew all the etiquettes he had to know to become a knight. He knew he had to help the weak and could not raise his sword against non-knights. He was obligated to help widows and orphans when they needed him. 

On his eighteenth birthday, they would go to the king, and he would become a knight, just like Sir Edward. 

A week before his birthday, Marco went out hunting with Edward and some nobles. They split up in teams to cover more ground, and Marco was separated from Sir Edward. He didn’t mind, since he would see him soon enough. 

Marco soon spotted a deer and he aimed his arrow at the beast. Suddenly, however, a loud cry sounded through the forest, starling the deer. Marco didn’t care, though. He had recognised the sound as Edward’s voice. As fast as his legs could carry him, he made his way to where the sound had come from. 

In a clearing in the woods, Sir Edward was lying on the ground, an arrow sticking out of his chest.

Marco hastened towards him, kneeling down on the mossy ground. His hands were shaking when he broke off the shaft to lessen the pressure on the wound. The arrow was bearded, so he carefully cut away around the wound to get the head out. When he was done, he ripped off a part of his tunic to staunch the bleeding. 

Tears were dropping on his hands and Sir Edward’s body as he applied pressure. Sir Edward’s broad chest wasn’t rising and falling anymore, but Marco didn’t care. He had long ago learned how to apply his healing powers on other people. The blue light moved from his hands to the wound on Edward’s chest. When it disappeared, however, the wound was still there, and blood was coming from it. Marco’s eyes widened, and he tried again, only to get the same result. 

The bushwood behind him rustled, and a few of the nobles stepped onto the clearing. “What happened?” one of them, Sir Teach, asked. 

Marco looked around, tears still in his eyes and his hands covered in blood. 

Some of the nobles rushed to his aid, but there was nothing they could do anymore. 

“What a terrible accident,” Sir Teach said, shaking his head. “There is no way to find out who’s responsible for his death. A stray arrow could have come from anywhere. Such a shame.”

The other nobles murmured in agreement.

“After this tragic incident, let’s go back home,” one of them suggested. 

They all turned around to leave.

“You can’t just leave him here!” Marco called. He looked at Edward’s pale face and gently brushed his cheek. This man had given him everything. Maybe his death had been an accident, he had no reason to suspect anyone of foul play, but… He wouldn’t leave him behind. He would bury the man that had become his father with dignity and respect. Gently, he closed the eyes that didn’t see anymore. 

After some hesitation, the nobles finally agreed to take the body of Sir Edward to the castle. 

However, without Sir Edward’s protection, it was like Marco was suddenly invisible. None of the servants listened to him anymore once they heard that their lord and protector had passed away. Marco was shoved to the side. He wasn’t Edward’s son, so he wasn’t his heir either and didn’t have any claim on the lands Edward owned. He was only a squire, because he hadn’t been knighted. 

Somehow, Sir Teach managed to lay claim on the lands, and as soon as he had the power, he kicked Marco out of the castle with hardly any money or possessions. Marco was forced to wander the lands. He earned some money by using his healing powers in villages that didn’t have doctors, but despite the fact that his powers were appreciated when needed, the people looked at him warily when he stayed for longer than necessary. 

Along with his healing powers, Marco also offered his services to lords and ladies at war. He was not a knight, but trained as one, so a very valuable contribution. Not to mention his healing powers. 

However, being a mercenary made people look at him even more warily, since he was being paid to kill. Marco tried to keep to the knight code as much as possible. He protected the weak, and helped widows and orphans as much as he could. In battle, however, he faced anyone with a weapon, knight or no. He wasn’t one, after all. 

His life was a lonely one, but at least he had money to buy company when he needed it. People easily bonded with the guy handing out free booze in taverns, at least for the night, and as long as the alcohol kept coming. His bed was warmed as well when he waved around some money. 

There was no one he could trust, however. 

When there was no war to fight, Marco looked for other kinds of trouble to solve. He had saved damsels in distress - though, when they found out he wasn’t really a knight and didn’t have any land, they usually lost interest - and slain monsters threatening the innocent. 

Being a healer, rejuvenation was part of that, and Marco never looked older than thirty, no matter how old he became. The longer he lived this life, however, the more often he needed company and someone to hold at night. He wanted something more than the superficial friendships and the whores in his bed, but he didn’t know how. If people didn’t want to know him, how could he prove he was worth knowing?

After a few weeks of no action, Marco’s wallet became emptier than he liked. He offered his services as a healer in absence of a real quest, but the few cuts and scrapes he healed were hardly enough to keep up his expensive lifestyle. 

Somehow, he had ended up at the lands of Sir Edward. No, since many years, they belonged to Sir Teach. Marco had never stopped suspecting that Sir Edward’s death had not been an accident, but he didn’t have a leg to stand on. He had no claim to the lands, after all. He would never forgive Teach, but perhaps spending a night in his old home would do him good.

Teach had become an old man. He had lost most of his sight, but he still recognised Marco. Much to Marco’s surprise, however, he was welcomed with open arms. Teach had a feast prepared while Marco rested in his old room. It didn’t look anything like it had, but he had to admit, Teach had taken good care of the castle. 

A squire took off Marco’s armour and washed his feet for him. When Marco had freshened up and taken a short nap, a servant announced that dinner was served. Marco washed his hands at the table, as was the custom, while Teach did the same. When they were done, Marco realised how hungry he was and started eating.

“You must have missed this place,” Teach said suddenly.

Marco almost dropped the chicken leg he was munching from. “I didn’t have much of a choice but to leave after you kicked me out,” he said without bothering to swallow. Teach didn’t deserve manners. 

Teach laughed. “Still having hard feelings about that? Well, I’m an old man now, while you don’t look a day over thirty. Yet when I die, you still won’t have the lands of your beloved father.”

Marco grit his teeth. Teach was taunting him, and Marco was tempted to drive his sword through him. It was the least the bastard deserved.

Teach betted his lips with a napkin and placed it next to his plate. “However, I have a preposition. If you do this job for me, I will give you your weight in gold. Without armour, that is. You can buy yourself a nice little house on my lands. How does that sound? You may not look the part, but you’re getting older. Having a house and a family must sound nice, eh?”

Marco looked at him, showing no emotion. Teach couldn’t see him anyway, but Marco had the feeling that he could sense Marco’s reaction. 

Teach started laughing. “Ah, well. I guess that not everyone wants a quiet life. Anyway, the offer stands.” He took a sip of his wine.

Marco ate in silence for a while, but eventually he gave in. “What’s the job?’

“Marvellous!” Teach exclaimed like Marco had already agreed. “Your name is well known for being a hero-for-hire. And that’s exactly the kind of man I need. Across the mountains, there are lands that belong to me as well. However, in a castle roams a monster. People are afraid to come near it, and none of my soldiers have succeeded in killing it. I need you to do that for me.”

Marco pursed his lips and drummed with his fingers on the table. “Alright. But I want my weight in gold… with armour.”

Teach looked everything but pleased. “You drive a hard bargain.”

Marco shrugged. “Like you said, I’m well known for what I do, and I get the job done. From what you told me, you need me. So I’m in the position to bargain.”

Teach narrowed his eyes for a moment, but then started to laugh. “Alright, alright. Your weight in gold, including armour. It’s a deal.”

Marco smirked and continued eating. From the money he would make he could buy a new sword, and a lot of company. 

The next morning, he left before dawn, as he still had quite a bit to travel. It took him two days to cross the mountains and find the castle Teach had been talking about. People he asked for directions became pale when they heard he was after the monster and advised him to turn around. Marco, however, would do no such thing. 

The castle was way past its glory days, that much became obvious at first glance. It was hardly more than a ruin. The moat was still there, but the water was turbid and smelled disgusting. There was no way Marco would want to swim through that, but the drawbridge was closed, so he didn’t have much of a choice. 

When he finally reached the other side - trying not to think about what he was covered in - he snuck into the building. It looked completely abandoned. Marco was hit in the face with cobwebs, and annoyed, he wiped them away. This job was annoying him already. However, the monster could be anywhere, so he had to be cautious. That was assuming the beast couldn’t smell him already thanks to the moat. His footsteps echoed through the halls as he made his way into the castle. Everything seemed abandoned, and furniture was covered in layers of dust. 

However, he didn’t see any bones or skulls lying around from people who had been unfortunate enough to be the monster’s lunch or dinner. In all, it didn’t look anything like the scene he was used to when fighting monsters, or what he had expected. That didn’t mean he shouldn’t be cautious. Since he didn’t know what to expect anymore, he had to be prepared for the unexpected. 

Nothing unexpected came, however. 

Marco started his search in the most obvious place for a monster to be, the dungeon, and after that moved on to the treasury. While there was no lack of gold there, there was no sign of any monster. 

Marco spent hours searching. He even started calling taunts at a certain point, when he was starting to become desperate. Would Teach have been wrong? But if there was no monster, why would he sent Marco instead of claiming the land or the gold for himself? 

Marco was doing his third round through the castle, opening every door he passed this time. The monster had to be  _ somewhere _ . If he didn’t find it this time, though, he would just claim the gold as his own and start living in the castle. It might be a little drafty, but it was better than the average tavern Marco had stayed at. Growing frustrated, Marco ripped open a wall unit. His sword he had put away a long time ago. However, instead of finding cleaning supplies or something, a humanoid figure rolled out of the closet as soon as Marco opened the doors. 

The man, because that was what the figure was, curled up in a ball with his back to Marco and his arm outstretched to him. “Don’t kill me!” he begged.

Flabbergasted, Marco stared at him. “I’m not going to kill you. But I think you should get out of here. There should be a monster wandering these halls. I have yet to locate it, but…” He combed with his hands through his hair, frustrated. 

The man sat up and turned around. He was wearing expensive looking clothes, so he had to be a nobleman. He had a well trimmed goatee and his hair was put up on a pompadour style. “Monster? There’s no monster here.” Then his expression turned from confused to sad. “Oh, I see. They’ve sent you to try to kill me this time. I’m telling you, it’d be better for the both of us if you just leave.”

“I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m sort of an expert when it comes to monsters, and you don’t look the part,” Marco said, his eyebrow raised. This man was an idiot, sure, but not a monster.

“Thank you!” the man exclaimed. “Now can you please tell my subjects that?”

“Subjects?” Marco asked.

The man scratched the back of his head. “Well, yeah. I’m the duke of these parts, and heir to the throne. They left me be until a while ago, but when the king, also an elemental like me, fell ill, people decided I had to go to, since they don’t want a dark elemental on the throne.” He smiled sheepishly.

“Oh.” That explained a lot. Marco had never met a dark elemental before. Elementals controlling water, fire, air or earth, the four elements, were quite common, but anything else was rather rare. While light elementals were revered, dark elementals were despised and feared. If this man was one, even if he didn’t look the part, it explained why he was described as a monster.

“Well then,” Marco said. “I guess I am here to kill you.”

The man sighed. “I’d  _ really _ prefer that you didn’t.”

“I can imagine.” Marco drew his sword. 

The man took a step back. “I don’t think you understand. I don’t want to use my powers, but I’ll have to if you want to kill me, and then I’ll be the one killing  _ you _ .”

Marco smirked. “Try me.” He swung his sword to cleave the duke’s head, but he danced out of the way just in time. 

“Look, you seem like a reasonable guy,” he tried. “I never done anything to you, did I? So why would you want to kill me?”

“‘Cause I’m getting paid,” Marco replied as he tried to decapitate the duke again. This was a very odd fight. He had had conversations during duals before, but those mostly consisted of exchanging of taunts. 

“I can pay you.” The duke bent backwards to avoid being hit by Marco’s sword. “Please stop this.”

“Can you pay my weight in gold, armour included?” Marco asked. 

“Sure!”

Marco stopped mid-movement. He worked for hire, which meant he worked for the highest bidder, but when the stakes were equal, he’d prefer to work for the person who was  _ not _ Teach. “Alright.” He put his sword away. 

The duke sighed in relief. “Great. I really didn’t want to kill you. You seem like a nice guy. I’m Thatch.” He held out his hand. 

Marco stared at him for a while, unsure what to do. On the one hand, he felt like he should prove to this Thatch that Marco would give him a run for his money, but on the other, no one in the past few decades had made an attempt to be nice to him. Polite, sure, but not nice. Thatch seemed to be sincere. 

Hesitantly, Marco took his hand and shook it. “Marco.”

Thatch grinned at him. “You must be hungry, Marco. Come, there’s food in the kitchen. I pay someone to fetch it for me, but they won’t come to the castle, so I have to pick it up in the woods.” He made a face. “It’s plenty, though.” 

Marco followed his new master through the hallways. Thanks to his search, he already knew it inside and out. Thatch immediately started cooking, while Marco started taking off his armour. 

“So, I pay you, and you keep assassins away from me,” Thatch said as he placed a plate in front of Marco.

“Sure,” he replied, “but why hire me? If you’re as strong as you claim, why not face them? You can’t buy everyone off.”

Thatch sighed. “I don’t like killing people, but with my powers, it’s easy to do so. I’ve killed a few, others ran away, fortunately, or I paid them to leave.”

“Why hire me then?”

“I don’t know,” Thatch said. “There is something about you that makes me feel like we’ll bond. You’re lonely, aren’t you?”

Marco didn’t reply. 

Thatch shrugged. “A mercenary always is. You probably don’t have a home, do you? If you stay here, you’ll have that and company. What do you say?”

Marco mused over his words for a while. Everything Thatch had said was true, and what he offered sounded tempting. Thatch seemed nice enough, aside from being an idiot, because that much was obvious. 

He smirked. “Deal.”

* * *

Staying with Thatch had been the best decision of his life, despite the fact that Thatch was still an idiot. Thatch had a certain likability about him that Marco couldn’t ignore, even if he had wanted to. It was hard to believe Thatch didn’t have any friends beside himself. Marco had soon learned that Thatch loved being liked, and hated being feared by his subjects. It wasn’t even because they tried to kill him - from that fact, Marco once again concluded Thatch was an idiot - but merely because they didn’t want to get to know him and like him. 

Marco had taken upon himself the task of protecting Thatch against assassins, and he tried not to kill them, per Thatch’s request. Marco had never seen Thatch’s powers at full strength, not even in the few decades they spent together - like Marco, Thatch hardly aged either, which made Thatch even better company.

Marco enjoyed his comfortable life. There was food and money enough, as, despite Thatch being feared, his subjects still paid him taxes. The castle was a bit of a mess, but after Marco made Thatch clean up a bit - he himself helped too, naturally - it became a decent place to live. Having someone to call a friend - a real friend - made Marco’s life so much better. He was less and less inclined to go out to bars to drink and sleep with random strangers. It didn’t even bother him that people looked even more warily than they had before; after all, he now worked for a dark elemental. 

However, Marco could see that Thatch was unhappy with his life, even though he tried to hide it. Thatch had been truly happy when Marco decided to stay with him, but that didn’t make up for the fact that his subjects would still much rather see him dead. Marco came to realise that no matter how much he enjoyed his comfortable life in the castle, this wasn’t the life Thatch should lead. Thatch needed to meet other people, people who didn’t know he was a dark elemental or, if they did, accepted him like Marco had. 

One day, when they were having dinner, Marco said, “I heard that in a kingdom far away from here there is a dragon on the loose.” It wasn’t a lie, he had in fact heard such a rumour. How old said rumour was, he didn’t know, but it didn’t matter. The only important thing was getting Thatch out of the castle and on the road.

“Is your hero instinct creeping up again?” Thatch asked teasingly. It had, after all, been decades since Marco had slain any kind of foe that hadn’t tried to jump Thatch. 

“You could say that,” Marco replied. Thatch would never go if he knew Marco was purposely trying to get Thatch outside, even if it for his own good. He would only protest that Marco liked living in the castle and that he was fine. “But I’m a little out of shape, since it’s only small fry that’s trying to kill you.”

“Well,” Thatch sipped from his wine, “now that the king isn’t ill anymore, there is less rush to get rid of me. But are you saying you’re leaving?” He tried to hide it, but his eyes betrayed his sadness. 

“Not me. We.”

“Huh?”

“You and me,” Marco clarified. “I’m not sure I can still handle a dragon, so I might need you.”

“Look, I don’t want to use my powers, even if it’s on a dragon.” Thatch started to collect the dishes, shaking his head. 

“I’m not saying you should use them,” Marco replied. “You could distract him by doing a dance, or whatever. I just want you to come with me.”

Thatch narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Why?”

Marco sighed. “Because it’ll be good for you. I know you like to hide away in your castle, but I also know you’re unhappy. And as your friend, I feel it’s my job to change that.”

Thatch stared at him, and Marco wondered why, until Thatch clutched at his heart. “You called me your friend!”

Marco sighed.

“I’m your friend! You’ve never called me that before!” Thatch hugged him tightly, and Marco already regretted his words. 

“Let me go or I’ll keep calling you my boss,” he managed to grouch out, but somehow, it sounded less threatening with the lack of air. 

Still, Thatch let go of him immediately. “Alright, alright. So we’re gonna slay a dragon then?”

* * *

Marco had been right, as expected. As soon as they left the kingdom of elementals, Thatch became less stressed and more comfortable. He had no trouble blending in as a human, as he was used to keeping his powers hidden. 

However, happy Thatch, Marco came to find out, was also even-more-idiot-than-usual Thatch. Marco had to drag his ass out of trouble more than once - try once a day. Still, the fact that he saw Thatch smiling and laughing so sincerely, it made the trouble worth it.

Not that he would tell Thatch that, or stop yelling at him. 

They had arrived in a town and stayed at the inn there for a few days. Marco’s horse Phoenix needed new shoes, which was what he had taken care of today. It was the same animal that Sir Edward had given him all those years ago. At first, Marco hadn’t thought about the fact that a horse should age and at some point retire. It was only later that he realised that his powers of healing and rejuvenation were rubbing off on the horse, making the animal almost as old as he was, and still healthy and energetic. Thatch had run off to his room with someone, leaving Marco sitting alone in the bar drinking. 

The door of the inn opened and for some reason, Marco felt the need to look around. He immediately thanked his lucky stars that he did. 

A man had entered, the most gorgeous man Marco had seen in a very long time. He seemed young, twenty or so, but Marco knew better than to try and estimate an age. Raven black hair framed the man’s face, which was covered in freckles. His eyes, however, bright as gold, were his most noticeable feature. 

The man smiled, and Marco smiled back despite himself; after all, why would this stranger smile at him? 

Marco forced himself to turn back to his drink and away from the man. In his life before Thatch, he had learned to recognise whores, and this man was not one, despite the fact that Marco would gladly pay anything to spend the night with him. Of course, he could try it the old fashioned way, by trying to talk to him, but honestly, after decades of living with Thatch, Thatch’s idiocy had to have rubbed off on him, he was sure of it. He would only make a fool out of himself. 

“Hi,” a voice suddenly sounded next to him, and when Marco looked at the person who had spoken to him, he almost choked on his beer. The golden-eyed man was standing beside him. “Can I sit here?”

Marco looked over his shoulder, but he could be the only one the man was talking to, so he nodded, too dumbfounded to react otherwise.

The man smiled at him. “Thanks. I’m Ace, by the way.” He held out his hand.

Somehow, Marco’s brain realised this was the part where he said something as well, and he took Ace’s hand. “Marco.”

“You don’t look like you’re entirely comfortable,” Ace said as he slid into the seat next to Marco. “But then again, you don’t look like most of the clientele either.” He glanced around the rest of the bar. 

The corner of Marco’s mouth quirked up. “Is that why you chose to sit here?”

“You seemed like the best company,” Ace replied. 

“Can I buy you an ale?” When Ace nodded, he gestured to the waitress to give them another round. After that, he took the time to check Ace out properly. He had noticed his eyes and most of his features from across the room, but it was certainly no punishment to look at him up close. Ace’s clothes were brightly coloured, an orange tunic with a red sash tied around it, and dragged eyes to him even if he hadn’t been so handsome. He had to be some kind of performer. 

They talked for a bit, but soon enough it became pretty clear that Ace was interested in the same sort of thing as Marco was. For one, Ace was sitting way closer than necessary, and touched him more often than could be called appropriate. Marco had no objections whatsoever. If Thatch was having fun, why shouldn’t he do the same? 

“You said you were a performer, right?” he asked. “How do you feel about giving me a private show?” It was hardly as subtle as he could have been, but to be honest, Marco didn’t feel like wasting anymore time. It had been a while since he saw some action, after all. Besides, knowing Thatch, he would probably screw things up with the person he had taken upstairs, and they would have to leave in a hurry. Marco would very much like to at least see Ace naked before that. 

Fortunately, Ace didn’t seem one for subtility either, and he smiled as he rose. “Do you have a private room?”

Marco managed to lead the way normally, instead of throwing Ace over his shoulder and running up the stairs. He had hardly closed the door before hungry lips were on his own - and Marco didn’t mind at all. His hands quickly made work of undoing the sash from around Ace’s waist, which was discarded carelessly to the floor. 

It was while he was kissing Ace that he noticed the necklace made out of large red beads that was around Ace’s neck. Of course, he had seen it before, but it was only now that he observed the runic symbols on it. He stretched out his hand to touch it, but Ace noticed and smacked his hand away. Marco raised his eyebrow. 

“Sorry,” Ace said. “It’s an heirloom and very fragile.”

“It protects you, doesn’t it?” Marco asked, and he was surprised to see fear in Ace’s eyes. There was nothing wrong with some protection magic. 

“H-how do you know?” Ace asked. He had let go of Marco and moved back into the room.

“I know about runes used in magic, though I don’t know their exact meaning,” Marco explained. 

For a second, relief washed over Ace’s face, before it disappeared. “Do you know magic?” he asked.

“Not a lot, I’m just a healer.” Marco smiled when Ace’s face lit up. 

“So you can do something about this?” Ace held out his hand and showed Marco his knuckles. They looked like they had scraped against a rough surface, though there was a scab on the wounds. Marco touched the skin, and blue fire lit up the wound. When Marco removed his hand, the wound was gone. Ace looked at his hand intrigued. 

“Usually, I charge for this kind of thing,” Marco said teasingly. 

Ace smirked. “Well,  _ sir _ , I don’t have any money. But perhaps I could pay you with favours~”

Before Marco knew it, Ace had fallen to his knees and was busy untying the strings keeping Marco’s trousers up. Marco closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the door. Not for the first time today, he thanked his lucky stars that he had already taken off his armour before meeting Ace. With the raging boner he had right now, he was pretty sure he would have dented the metal. 

Ace grinned up at him wickedly, and Marco was torn between wanting to kiss him and letting him continue what he was doing. He chose the former, pulling Ace to his feet and leading him to the bed. Ace ended up on top while kissing Marco fervently. Somehow, he managed to take off Marco’s shirt without losing contact, leaving Marco completely naked. 

“Shit!” it suddenly sounded loudly from the room next to them, quickly followed by a grunt and, “What the fuck,” in another voice, before a crashing noise could be heard. 

Ace sat up, startled, as did Marco. Didn’t Thatch have the room next to his? It had sounded an awful lot like Thatch. Marco pushed Ace off him, feeling the need to investigate, though he was mentally already strangling Thatch. That idiot couldn’t behave for one afternoon?!

“Wait!” Ace exclaimed. 

Before Marco knew what was going on, he was pinned against the bed once more and kissed vigorously. As soon as it started, it also stopped. Ace jumped off the bed, leaving Marco stunned, snatching something from the floor, before he ran from the room. 

It all happened so fast, Marco blinked as his brain tried to catch up with it. He registered a thud sound somewhere outside, but for a moment, he couldn’t act. Finally, Thatch came to mind, and he cursed loudly. No doubt Thatch had done something stupid, and now Ace was gone. 

However, when Marco searched around the room, he realised that the thing Ace had taken were his trousers. And that included his pouch. He cursed again. From his luggage, he retrieved a new pair of trousers, before running from the room. In the hallway, he found Thatch with a bloody nose and a stupid grin on his face. Marco decided not to ask, but first go after Ace and his money.

Still clad in nothing but trousers, not even wearing boots, he ran through the bar of the inn downstairs and outside. He heard the sound of hooves coming near and could barely jump aside before a horse almost ran him over. 

No, not  _ a _ horse.  _ His  _ horse. 

And on top of it were two people, one none other than Ace.


	3. Chapter 3

The pain spread from his nose throughout Thatch’s entire face, but he had no time to spare for that, opting for letting the blood run down his face and over his mouth rather than reaching out to wipe it away. He didn’t care, really, all his attention focused on running out of the room and not crashing straight into Marco as he ran past Thatch’s room, only slowing enough to shoot an odd look Thatch’s way before running down the stairs as fast as he could. Thatch followed just a bit slower, slightly hindered by pain, but still fast enough to have reason to hope he’d find Izo uninjured and well in that pile of hay underneath his window. His mind flashed with pain and stray thoughts about Izo, mostly focused on the way things ended between them, but Thatch tried not to let those come to the forefront of his mind before he found Izo in the first place. 

Somewhat vaguely, he registered in the back of his mind that no one paid him much attention as he ran through the inn with his clothes and hair disheveled, blood dripping down his chin and soaking the front of his tunic. The feeling of blood running freely from his nose did nothing to diminish the astonishment Thatch had felt at meeting Izo and actually charming him into going upstairs. Not that he was as hopeless as Marco liked to claim, thank you very much, but it was fairly surprising considering Thatch hadn’t had practice in wooing anyone in the last several decades. 

That was a concern for another time, Thatch realised as he came to an abrupt halt just in time to avoid crashing into Marco once more outside of the inn’s entrance. Once again, Thatch spared barely a thought for Marco, moving around him and along the side of the inn, hurrying to get to that pile of hay as soon as possible. All he wanted was to find Izo there, leaving no room for questioning what the whole situation was even about and why exactly Izo had found it necessary to jump out of a window to get away. Thatch was optimistic enough to think his kissing skills weren’t to blame here, though Marco might think otherwise. 

He rounded a corner, almost tripping over his own feet in his hurry to just get there and wished that he hadn’t as soon as he reached his goal. Izo wasn’t there. That wasn’t exactly surprising, but it was disappointing all the same. 

For a moment, Thatch let himself stand there and hope that maybe Izo would come back. The thrill of meeting him was slowly replaced by a sadness he was all too familiar with, having been left by people before due to fear caused by his powers, but this time was different. There was no way Izo could have known about those, and that kind of made it worse for Thatch. He was used to people fearing his powers and leaving because of them, but this meant Izo left because of Thatch himself. Didn’t it? 

The thought just made him more curious, about Izo and about what had happened. He let it slide for the moment, knowing that overthinking it would bring him nothing good right now, and instead, Thatch turned around, fully intent on returning to the front of the inn and asking Marco what the hell he was doing outside in nothing but a pair of trousers. Except now that he was no longer in a hurry, Thatch’s eyes fell on a heap of fabric that looked completely out of place yet painfully familiar. It couldn’t be said that he looked at Marco’s trousers all that often, but he could recognise them if needed. 

Izo forgotten for the time being, Thatch picked up the fabric between his thumb and forefinger, lifting it up as if it might explode on him. Of course it did no such thing, and Marco’s trousers unraveled in all their rumpled glory. Holding them just like that, as if they were dangerous, Thatch walked back to the inn’s front door, unsurprised that Marco still stood there, glaring into the distance. If he hadn’t been used to that particular glare, Thatch was certain it’d make him piss his trousers in fear. 

“Why were your trousers abandoned near the stables?” Thatch asked as soon as he was close enough to speak without having to raise his voice. “What kind of trouble did you start?”

The question prompted Marco to turn his glare from the horizon to Thatch.

“What do you mean what kind of trouble did  _ I _ start? You’re the one with the bloody nose!” Marco pretty much snarled at Thatch, and it was glaringly obvious something had gone wrong. As soon as the words left his mouth, though, Marco rubbed a hand through his hair and sighed. “Let’s go upstairs, where you’ll tell me about the nose and the guy.”

“You’ll tell me about the trousers?” Thatch asked, handing them over to Marco.

“It’s a long story,” Marco said with another sigh. This one sounded awfully annoyed, if that was even possible. 

“I have time while you heal my nose,” Thatch added with a grin as he followed Marco through the tavern downstairs, ignoring all the eyes following their movements. It was fairly easy to do given that Marco was obviously pissed, and Thatch couldn’t help but think about Izo again now that his mind was free to wander for the moment. 

Marco led the way to his room, stopping only to close the door to Thatch’s room, something Thatch hadn’t been paying attention to when he’d chased out in search of Izo. He caught sight of the mess in his room through the crack in the brief moment before Marco closed it, painfully reminded that he could have been in there with Izo right now. He was also so very painfully aware of how sexually frustrated he really was. As Marco would love to remind him, it had been decades since the last time Thatch had been with anyone. Not counting that one disastrous time he and Marco decided to relieve some sexual frustrations with each other before promptly deciding that it was an extremely bad idea. They never spoke of that ever, though as frustrated as he was, Thatch had a brief moment of wondering whether it was something they might try again despite Marco’s threats of chopping his head off if it came up again.

“Sit down, you dumbass,” Marco grumbled as soon as they entered his room, snapping Thatch out of his brief lapse in judgement about them as sexual partners. His thoughts shifted to a string of  _ ugh, no _ fairly quickly. 

“So, the guy and the nose,” Marco prompted, crouching in front of Thatch once Thatch sat down at the foot of the bed. 

“He was amazing,” Thatch said, painfully aware of just how dreamily he said that while his cheeks actually started hurting a tiny bit from grinning so hard. “So beautiful and funny and perfect, Marco, you have no idea!” He was ready to say more, much much more, probably far more than Marco strictly needed to know, but never got a chance to as Marco touched his nose and made him grit his teeth from the pain. Thatch’s eyes started to water a little from the force of it, the pain almost worse than the actual punch was.

“And this perfect, amazing, dreamy, sun-shines-out-of-his-ass guy punched you?” Marco asked with a raised eyebrow, the look on his face suggesting he was seconds away from laughing his ass off, but refrained only because he was in the middle of inspecting the damage to Thatch’s face. “Oh, I’m sorry, not only punched you, but broke your nose. Good God, did he use a chair?” 

“No, just his fist,” Thatch said through gritted teeth, willing Marco to get on with the healing part of this process. “Will you just get on with it, this hurts!”

“You seemed fine until now,” Marco told him and he did have a point there, pretty much. Still, the familiar blue light spread from his fingers and over the sore mess that was Thatch’s face, blinding him slightly, but at the same time easing the pain until it was completely gone. They stayed like that for a moment after Thatch’s nose was healed, in complete silence as Marco stood from where he’d been crouched in front of Thatch.

“So, the trousers?” Thatch broke the silence, mouth stretching into a grin as soon as Marco scowled that scary scowl of his. Of course its effect had worn off when it came to Thatch, but many men and beasts had crumbled when faced with that look. 

“Ace stole my horse,” Marco spat out, which wasn’t the answer Thatch was expecting. Well, technically he didn’t know what that meant in the first place.

“What does that have to do with the trousers?” Thatch asked, frowning up at Marco. “And what’s an Ace?”

“Who, not what,” Marco told him. “I met him downstairs while you were getting it on with your guy. We came up here, and it was just getting interesting when he grabbed my trousers and ran. Next thing I know, he’s riding off on my damn horse,” he finished, voice turning into a growl the more he spoke. His scowl eased for a moment, though, as he looked somewhere behind Thatch. “I loved that horse,” he added sadly, his mouth curving downwards just a tiny bit.

“Why’d he take your trousers?” Thatch couldn’t help but wonder. “They’re not that great.”

“I don’t know why he took the damn trousers, Thatch!” Marco shouted, lifting a hand to scrub it over his face in frustration. 

“I’m guessing things didn’t get interesting enough considering you’re still this uptight,” Thatch deadpanned, knowing that Marco wasn’t shouting at him. “You’re mean when you’re not getting laid regularly.”

Marco’s glare could probably kill dragons, Thatch reckoned, but he was too used to all the aspects of his personality to be bothered by any of it at this point. Besides, having one of their horses stolen was something worth getting frustrated over, especially considering there was no way they could travel on Thatch’s horse alone. 

“You’re meaner when you try to get laid and things don’t go your way, though,” Thatch added helpfully, taking absolutely no pleasure in the groan Marco let out. 

“Thank you very much, I have no idea how I could have gone through this without your observations,” Marco snarked, letting Thatch know he was mostly his usual self. “He took my coin purse as well,” he added mournfully before heaving a sigh and sitting on the bed next to Thatch. “I think we should-” Marco started before Thatch cut him off.

“No no, you lost us a horse and half of our money, you don’t make the decisions anymore,” he started. “You are going to sell one of my gems while I get us another horse.”

“Dammit Thatch, I know where he went with my horse, we should follow him!” 

“You can’t make me ride with you on the same horse. Grown men don’t do that, Marco.”

“We can buy a new horse first and leave today so we catch up,” Marco reasoned. 

“What the hell are we going to do with three horses when we do catch up?” Thatch asked with a frown.

“You’re focusing on the wrong thing,” Marco said with an expression that said he’d love to strangle Thatch for asking stupid questions even if he wasn’t aware why they were stupid. “He robbed me and took my horse, this is a matter of honour.”

“Since when do you care about honour?” Thatch asked seriously enough considering he was doing his best to rile Marco up. It might have been a bit mean, but Thatch knew Marco well enough and he knew that it was a good way of distracting him and easing some of the anger.

“Since always, I am a knight, Thatch, remember?” Marco was looking at him like he was an idiot.

“But you’re not a knight yet,” Thatch pointed out.

“I was raised as one, it’s almost the same except I’m allowed to gut the guy for stealing my horse.”

“And your trousers,” Thatch added. “Don’t forget about the trousers.”

“Please stop going on about my trousers,” Marco said, fingers rubbing at the bridge of his nose in a fashion all too familiar to Thatch. It was enough incentive to stop messing about and think about their predicament seriously, if nothing else then because it stopped him from thinking too much about Izo and the fact they’d probably never cross paths again. The plan he laid out for Marco seemed to be the best option; getting more money and going on their merry way to continue the quest. They could forget all about the sneaky thief and the horse and Izo. 

It wasn’t that simple, though. Thatch knew Marco, and if he had seen in which direction the thief had gone, then there is only one option for them and that is to follow this fiend. Thatch looked around the room while he contemplated whether it was worth going after the horse, all the while knowing that it was a matter of pride for Marco, and of course they would make that their new quest. 

“So we’re going after him?” Thatch asked with a sigh, eyes stopping on a pool of red fabric on the floor next to the bed. “You know, that red clashes with everything you own,” he added, momentarily distracting himself because that really was a bright red whatever it was. 

“What are you talking about?” Marco asked, more annoyed than confused before spotting what held Thatch’s attention. “That’s not mine. Can you just focus?”

“Fine, fine,” Thatch said, turning back to Marco. “So you know where he went? And what, we’ll just go in the same direction hoping to catch up?”

“It’s not that different from our quest for the dragon except we know for sure that this rotten thief exists,” Marco shrugged. “Who steals a man’s horse?!” There was definitely a growl in the somewhere, though this time Marco sounded more disbelieving than angry. Clearly, Marco never felt the need to steal a horse. That was somewhat nice to know. 

“We should hurry then. Go sell one of the gems,” Thatch started, rising from the bed. “The blue one, I think. I’ll get us a horse, we’ll meet back here and we’re leaving in an hour. Alright?”

“Are you sure?” Marco asked, looking skeptical about the plan for the first time since it was brought up. For a good reason, too, considering he was full of shit and didn’t actually consider this a proper quest, because it really wasn’t, but just used that excuse to get Thatch to actually follow the thief. Thatch was onto him, he did know Marco as well as he knew himself after all, just as he knew he would never refuse anything Marco asked for mostly because he had the habit of rarely asking.

“Yes,” Thatch confirmed, “now go, he’s getting further away as we speak. I’ll pay for the rooms too.” 

Marco gave a curt nod before Thatch turned, going out into the hall and back to his own room to pack what scant belongings he ever removed from his satchel. The room was still in a disarray from earlier, only reminding Thatch of what happened, but he didn’t let himself think about it now as he gathered the scattered coins. There was no time to worry about that now that he had a horse to buy and a chase to start. 

One look in the mirror, though, made him stop in his tracks. Once Marco healed his nose, Thatch had forgotten all about it being broken and bleeding for probably far too long. His face was covered in blood, and it had dripped down his chin and onto his shirt. He looked like he’d been through something much worse than a simple punch to the face. So before doing anything else, Thatch washed his face and changed into a clean shirt, ridding himself of the last evidence that the encounter with Izo even happened.

* * *

Thatch couldn’t remember  _ why _ exactly he’d thought it was a good idea to go buy a new horse himself instead of letting Marco do it. Marco was the one with all the experience in these things, he was skilled in haggling for things merchants usually tended to overprice and he was intimidating enough for them to not try to cheat him. Thatch hadn’t the faintest idea about horses or which traits were the best for a horse needed to carry a knight in armour. Finding out just how heavy a knight in armour is, Thatch found himself terrified at the prospect of a poor animal carrying all that weight for long periods of time. 

Of course, that was the most important thing he kept in mind while buying a replacement horse for Marco. There was absolutely nothing else he cared for. 

“What the hell is that?” Marco asked with a truly astounding amount of disbelief as soon as Thatch walked into the stables by the inn where Marco had been saddling up his horse. 

“It’s a horse,” Thatch told him, recognising that he believed absolutely nothing of his own supposed reasoning for buying this specific horse.

“That is not a horse.”

Well, Thatch had to admit that what he bought was, technically, not an actual horse. 

“This noble animal is a Nivellemere pony, and I’ll have you know it’s better than any horse,” Thatch said, hands still gripping the reins tightly. “They can carry four times their weight without breaking a sweat and their life expectancy is almost the same as that of humans.”

“Take it back,” Marco commanded, eyes narrow as he stared at the pony. Thatch was of the opinion that ponies should have counted as horses and that this was in no way a punishment for Marco. 

“No.” 

“I can’t ride a pony, it’s too small for me,” Marco reasoned, and Thatch could recognise that he did make a point, but there really wasn’t much to be done at this point.

“This was the last animal big enough to ride that was left,” Thatch said, letting the pony come closer to Marco. “The market was packing up by the time I got there, and this was the best I could do. It’s only until we catch up with the thief, anyway.”

The reluctance on Marco’s face was glaringly obvious, but Thatch could see the way he was weighing the pros and cons of this, no doubt knowing that the sooner they set out, the sooner they were likely to catch the thief and get their horse back. 

“Are you sure it can carry me?” Marco asked, looking as if he’d rather run next to Thatch’s horse than ride a pony, but there wasn’t much of a choice left for him.

“Positive,” Thatch confirmed. “I was told it would be fine for him considering you don’t have your full armor, and even though the ride might be a bit bumpy for you, it should be alright. I’m sure you’ve had worse experiences on your travels.”

“Remind me, why aren’t you the one riding the pony?” Marco asked, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose in an all too familiar fashion that told Thatch that Marco already had given in to the idea. 

“I didn’t get our horse and half of our money stolen,” he replied calmly. “Speaking of, did you sell the gem?”

“Yes, the money is all divided and hidden in all the saddlebags and any other random pocket I could find,” Marco informed him before moving closer with his things, letting the pony sniff him before he fastened his saddlebags. For a pony, it really wasn’t all that tiny. Thatch knew it could have been worse, really. Still, if the quests were to become a regular thing they did together, he would have to consider investing in a griffin. Surely no one would think to steal one of those. 

Marco heaved an extremely exasperated sounding sigh before he looked at Thatch again. “Fine, I’ll ride the pony,” he said, obviously pained by the admission. “But this does not mean it was my fault we got robbed.”

“You got robbed,” Thatch pointed out. “I just got punched in the face.” He was adamant about admitting that, technically, Izo did grab a handful of coins on his way out. That detail could stay between him and Izo.

“That really doesn’t make it sound any better, you know,” Marco told him with a raised eyebrow. 

When he put it that way, it really didn’t sound very good, but that was hardly important in their current situation. Marco knew it as well, saddling up his new steed before mounting it to start yet another part of their journey. 

Thatch did his best not to laugh at the sight and was proud of himself for actually managing to stay quiet during the ordeal. While the pony may not have been absolutely tiny, Marco was by far too big. Still, just this once, Thatch kept quiet and refrained from teasing Marco, letting him lead the way out of the stables and, soon after, out of the city. 

The journey itself was slower going than expected. While they did travel at the same pace as before, slow and steady, it wasn’t by choice this time and, considering this was a chase, they were moving too slow. Marco blamed it all on the pony’s short legs. He could still track the hoof prints his horse had left, recognising them because the horseshoes were still new and barely used, carved into the ground by the weight of two people riding the horse. They followed the trail slowly, but at least there was something to follow. Thatch wished he had known about the second person a bit earlier though, but Marco clearly hadn’t felt the need to mention it until they were already on the road.

“It doesn’t make much of a difference if there’s only one of them or two,” Marco had said when it came up. “Maybe only one of them is a thief and he kidnapped someone. Who knows.” As if it wasn’t a big deal that they were either going against two criminals or were dealing with an innocent hostage.

Still, when night came, they were in the middle of nowhere, forced to set up camp near the river they’d been following so the horses could rest. Given that he wasn’t used to riding this much, Thatch needed the rest too. The same could be said about Marco, if his groaning was anything to go by when it became obvious riding on a Nivellemere pony was like sitting on a bouncy pile of rocks. 

Surprisingly, or perhaps not so much, Thatch fell asleep as soon as his head hit the improvised pillow, the embers from their fire still keeping him warm. It wasn’t even close to the comfort they had had in the inn, but Thatch hardly cared after the day he’d had. 

Of course, there was nothing surprising about the way Marco woke him at the crack of dawn, or how Thatch failed to get up then, opting for at least another hour of sleep. At this point in their journey, not to mention the fact they’d lived together for decades now, Marco knew very well that Thatch refused to get out of bed before nine at least. Still, this was a unique situation they found themselves in, and Thatch managed to change his habit this one time even if they didn’t leave camp until mid-morning. 

“This is supposed to be a chase,” Marco grumbled, voice oddly distorted by how violently he was shaking with every move made by the pony he was riding. “We’re not fast enough to chase anyone.”

Thatch did nothing but hum in reply, willing to admit that Marco was right this time even if he wasn’t about to voice that anytime soon. His silence was enough to stop Marco from speaking, and they traveled in silence for the next several hours, following the trail that seemed to be following a route to as far from the town as possible. Not that odd considering they were chasing a thief. 

Mid-afternoon, though, the trail led them to a small village. For a brief moment, Thatch was optimistic that they would either find the thief and the horse or at least some clues about where to go next. 

What they got, however, was an entire village filled with people completely ignoring them after an initial burst of curiosity shot their way. It was slightly unnerving the way that no one was looking at them, moving as if there was absolutely no one there. He’d have expected kids to be more curious than that, but the only small group of children he could see were too busy playing further along the small square, dancing around each other and imitating what almost looked like Izo’s routine from the show he’d seen the day before in the city. 

With a shake of his head, Thatch dismissed that, certain his mind was playing tricks on him because he’d been refusing to think about Izo since they set out on this chase. 

“We should leave,” Thatch said as Marco returned from what looked like another unsuccessful attempt to talk to any of the villagers. “They don’t want to talk to us.”

Marco nodded, looking around at all the people ignoring them so intently, before he mounted the pony and led the way out of the village, set on following the river again. Given the lack of information, that was their best and frankly only option. Thatch wasn’t so sure about this chase being successful, but he once again kept his mouth shut and followed Marco’s lead. He was momentarily amused at his own uncharacteristic behaviour and the fact Marco surely must have noticed. Well, he was behaving just as oddly, considering he hadn’t commented on any of it so far. 

Thatch couldn’t wait until they were done with this, knowing it would lift this weird and unpleasant mood off them. Usually, they talked more, even if Marco grumbled and called Thatch an idiot half of the time. It was familiar and actually nice in a really weird way; he’d learned long ago that Marco showed his affection like that. But now, ever since they’d left the inn, there was a silence between them, completely foreign and unnerving. 

It may have been mostly Thatch’s fault, considering he carried most of their conversations, but he’d been so adamant  _ not _ to think about Izo and what happened at the inn that he couldn’t focus on anything else, really. As far as plans went, his wasn’t a very good one, but it was the only one he had. So they continued in silence, no matter how unnatural it felt, and Thatch could only hope they would have more luck soon.

Instead of luck, they ended up with another night under the stars, sleeping by the river with sore muscles and a lot more silence than Thatch thought was possible between two people. And he’d spent decades all alone in that run down castle, he knew silence. He had to admit, though, being outside of those all too familiar walls was amazing. 

Waking at dawn really wasn’t, though. This time, surprising not only Marco, but himself as well, Thatch rose as soon as he was woken up, eating his breakfast swiftly, and they were on the road faster than he could comprehend. He was half dead in his saddle, afraid he might fall asleep and slide right out of it, but Marco was a bit more cheerful, making the sacrifice worth it. 

Even more so when Marco stopped just two hours later.

“There’s a camp ahead,” he said, eyes trained on a small forest by the river. “I think it might be our thief.”

“How the hell do you know there’s a camp?” Thatch asked, eyes probably wider than normal. 

Marco turned, staring unblinking into his eyes for a moment. “I can smell it,” he deadpanned.

“You never told me you have an enhanced sense of smell!” Thatch was freaking out, still half asleep yet very unnerved by this turn of events. “That is so weird.”

Marco sighed and rolled his eyes very hard, making Thatch worry he’d hurt himself for a moment there.

“There’s smoke coming from between the trees, of course it’s a camp,” Marco said. “You’re very bad with paying attention to your surroundings, we should work on that.”

He probably wasn’t wrong about that, Thatch knew, considering he hadn’t noticed the dark string of smoke so obvious against the blue cloudless sky. 

“Probably,” he replied.

“Alright, we should sneak up on them just in case they try to run,” Marco started, and, despite Thatch saying Marco would no longer be the one making decisions, Thatch was ready to let it go this time. Marco was better skilled in strategies such as this. “You follow the river closely and sneak up on that side, I’ll go around and approach from the opposite side.”

“How do you know this will work?” Thatch asked, genuinely curious instead of teasing as he usually might be. 

“I don’t, but we don’t have much choice so this is the only option other than just walking up and hoping they don’t notice us.”

“Fair enough,” Thatch said with a shrug, moving closer to the river and riding along it to the shade of the trees. Marco left the other way, approaching the small forest from the other side, soon disappearing from Thatch’s sight. 

With a few short meters between him and the treeline, Thatch dismounted the horse and let it graze while he walked towards the trees. He was probably less careful than he was supposed to be, but having been so free on this journey with Marco, Thatch easily forgot that a lot of people wanted him dead. That didn’t matter, however, as soon as he stepped into the shade of the trees, following the edge of the river, and heard a lone voice singing an unfamiliar tune barely heard over the sound of the flowing water. 

He walked towards the voice, as silent as he could be so as to not disturb whoever it was that sang, but he couldn’t stop the far too loud gasp he let out as he rounded a particularly big tree growing half out of the river. The sound alerted the person singing, making them shriek and turn with wide eyes, trying to cover themselves with their hands as soon as they saw Thatch. It was as if Izo looked even more magnificent than what Thatch remembered from not even two full days ago, but that could in part be because he was completely nude now with wet hair from swimming in the river. 

Thatch kept staring in shocked silence, unsure of what he’d done to deserve such luck and what could be a second chance with Izo, not noticing immediately that Izo snapped out of his petrified post-shriek state and started chanting. Really, it was only instinct and years of dodging anything and everything tossed at him by random assassins that helped him evade the shimmering ball of black smoke that Izo threw at him. 

“Hey!” he yelled as he ducked behind the nearest tree, watching as the light hit the ground where he had been standing just seconds ago. “What the hell?!”

“How did you find me?” Izo asked, sounding winded, his breath harsh and voice panicked. Thatch could hear him wading through water, fighting against the flow, but couldn’t see where to. He wasn’t sure whether it was safe to glance around the tree, but did so anyway once he’d spotted a pool of dark fabric on the ground a mere two meters from where he was hiding. It didn’t take a genius to figure out it was Izo’s. 

“On accident,” Thatch replied distractedly, sneaking a glance from his hiding place, noting Izo was making his way towards the fabric he’d spotted. Obviously, it was some piece of clothing, and he wasn’t sure he liked that. Izo looked amazing, though he did feel bad for ogling. 

Izo stopped at Thatch’s words, frowning in his general direction. “What the hell does that mean?” 

“It means we followed the horse thief to here, and then I saw you,” Thatch said, completely uninterested in their quest at the moment. “Wait, are you with the thief? Who steals a man’s horse, Izo?!” 

“I didn’t steal a damn horse! What the hell are you going on about?”

“Well, someone stole it, and he’s set up camp not even ten meters from here!” Thatch said, louder than he’d planned, as he stood up and came out of his hiding place. Izo was just standing there, though, contemplating something. The water reached up mid-thigh, leaving him almost entirely visible to Thatch, but he was looking at Izo’s face, noting the slight blush that rose on his otherwise cold looking skin.

“Oh,” he muttered as if realising something, “about that…” He trailed off, avoiding eye contact with Thatch, and he looked so embarrassed, Thatch could have laughed out loud. He didn’t finish the thought, just frowned to himself while Thatch observed him, noting not for the first time just how beautiful he was with his pale skin and his long black hair wet and slicked back. At the same time, Thatch realised it was early autumn, the air and water far too cold for a casual swim.

Thatch walked over to the fabric on the ground, noting it was a cloak as soon as he picked it up. Izo was looking at him again, wary and unsure, another chant probably ready on his tongue at the slightest sign of a threat from Thatch.

Instead, Thatch held the cloak out with both hands, the collar unbuttoned and waiting for Izo to come out of the water. Reluctantly, Izo did so, moving slowly, his eyes never wavering from Thatch’s face. There was no stopping the light flinch when he saw Izo lift his hands and mutter something, but this wasn’t aimed at him, and he watched in fascination as Izo smoothed his hands over his hair, leaving it completely dry as soon as the black smoky wisps faded from his fingers. 

He’d been too busy dodging before to realise Izo was magic, even if he had no idea what kind. It was all too mesmerising to watch, no matter that it was just a small and technically unremarkable display of what was most likely a magnificent power. Izo was proving to be more special and fascinating than Thatch had initially realised which only made the end of their first encounter sting more.

“Why did you leave?” he asked, surprised at how soft his voice sounded. 

The words made Izo stop just out of reach, looking almost frightened, but mostly confused, rooted to the spot. Thatch, in turn, stepped forward, wrapping the cloak around his shoulders and immediately noticing the soft sigh of relief at the warmth. He couldn’t help it, his hands trailed up along Izo’s neck, fingers sliding through his hair, and he couldn’t help but want to kiss him again, but didn’t dare to, not without Izo’s permission. 

His gaze fell down to the base of Izo’s throat, just as they had done in his room two days ago, and he saw the burn again, fully this time without the make up hiding it. As soon as he looked, he felt Izo tense under his hands.

“What is that?” he asked, gently tracing a thumb over it. “Are you hurt?” 

Izo’s breath hitched, drawing Thatch’s eyes back up to Izo’s face, and the sheer panic he found there almost made him recoil, but he had no time to think as Izo muttered something again, his hands surrounded by a black mist as he lifted them, pressing his palms against Thatch’s chest before a word or perhaps scream could leave him. 

The last he saw was fear in Izo’s eyes.


	4. Chapter 4

“I probably shouldn’t ask how you got this horse, should I?” Izo asked, his arms wrapped tightly around Ace’s waist to prevent him from falling off the rather fast moving horse.

“I probably shouldn’t ask why you fell out of a window?” Ace immediately retorted. He had to smile when Izo didn’t reply right away; after all, it was rare that Ace was able to shut Izo up. What else was rare was that Izo looked so dishevelled in public. Having lived with Izo for decades now, Ace had seen him in the morning more than once, and that wasn’t a pretty picture, but out in the open, Izo always looked his best. Which was why it was so surprising the way he looked now, with strings of hair peeking from his braid and his make-up, still there from their final performance with the troupe, was smudged. It was odd to see that the mark at the base of Izo’s throat, that branded him for something he was not, was visible. Usually, Izo was very careful about not showing it.

“Can’t you go a little slower?” Izo suddenly whined, and Ace had to hold back a snort, because Izo _never_ whined. Ever.

“No,” he replied.

Izo made a whiny noise, when his grip around Ace suddenly tightened. “Pull over!”

Ace could hear the alarm in his voice and hastily did as he said. Izo all but rolled off the horse and dove into the bushes. With a sigh, Ace walked over to him and helped him hold his hair back as Izo hurled. “Since when am I the responsible one?” he asked teasingly.

Izo shot him a glare, before gagging again and turning back to the bushes. When he was done, he gratefully accepted the skin of water Ace held out for him and rinsed his mouth. After he had spat it out and drank some, he turned to Ace.

“I’m gonna ask anyway. That horse,” he gestured with his head, “it’s that nobleman’s, isn’t it? The one we saw in town after-”

“After we got ditched by our troupe?” Ace spat as he walked back to the horse and mounted.

Izo remained silent and moved a hand through his hair, looking disgusted at his braid. “I’m a mess, ain’t I?” he asked with a sigh as he plucked some hay from his hair.

Ace smirked as he helped him on the back of the horse. “Don’t worry, you’re still pretty.” He didn’t need to look around to know Izo was giving him a glare.

“I’m always pretty,” Izo finally spat, but continued in a milder tone. “You didn’t answer the question, though. Was that what you were planning all along?”

“We needed transportation, since the rest of the troupe took the wagon and all the money,” Ace said with a huff. “Which reminds me, I also got us some money.” He handed Marco’s pouch to Izo. It hadn’t been his intention to steal Marco’s money, but when he had hastened himself out of Marco’s room, he had wanted to grab his sash, accidentally taking Marco’s trousers with him, and with that, Marco’s pouch. It had quite some money in it, which proved Marco was indeed a wealthy man. Or had been, before he met Ace, in any case. After discovering his mistake, Ace had taken the pouch, but ditched the trousers on his way to the stables. It was too bad he had lost his sash, though.

It hadn’t been Ace’s plan to get it on with Marco, not initially, anyway. When Izo decided to get drunk, Ace had gone to the stables and looked for a horse. The idea of needing transportation had come to him after seeing the nobleman, who had turned out to be Marco. There had been only two horses that didn’t look like a miserable beast, and Ace recognised the grey Marco had been on right away. That horse had been the only one of the animals that hadn’t moved when Ace had entered. The others neighed and backed away as soon as he came near them. They probably sensed the predator in him. Surprisingly though, Marco’s horse had seemed bored, rather than anything else.

Ace had hidden Izo’s and his bags for prying eyes in the stables, but since the horses didn’t want to shut up, Ace decided it would be better to leave. Instead, he went into the inn, to maybe have a drink with someone - Izo wasn’t the only one with charms, mind you. And well, Ace just liked to play with fire. It wasn’t his act for nothing. Marco had been sitting there, all alone, and Izo was nowhere to be seen.

The most flattering part was, though, that Marco seemed to actually be into him. Ace had been on his knees in front of him, yet Marco had pulled him back up again for a kiss. It had been… oddly nice. While they had travelled with a troupe for a while, Ace and Izo had only been allowed to stay because their acts brought in money. No one liked or even trusted them, which was why they had been kicked out when some stuff had gone missing. Everyone had pointed the finger at them right away, and Ace and Izo had been left with nothing but two bags of their things, which fortunately included their props. Marco, however, had actually wanted to be with Ace, even if it was only for that one day. Besides, Marco was really hot.

“Izo?” Ace suddenly asked, and he could feel Izo jerk behind him. Apparently, he had been dozing off while Ace had been lost in thought. “The runes on my necklace, are they well known?”

Izo stayed silent for a moment, and Ace started to think he had fallen back asleep, when he replied, “Some people know that runes are magical, but there are only few around this area who know what they mean. Why do you ask?”

“M- The owner of this horse…” Ace scratched the back of his head. “Well, I kinda almost did him while you were doing whatever else - which I don’t need to know, either,” he hastily added. “Anyway, he knew they protected me, though he claimed he couldn’t read them.”

“Does he have magic?” Izo asked with a yawn.

“He’s a healer.”

Izo hummed and made himself comfortable against Ace’s back. “What kind of healer?”

“What do you mean, what kind?”

Izo sighed and shifted on the back of the horse, sighing like he was explaining something to a slow child. “How do you know he’s a healer?”

“He told me,” Ace replied. “And then he healed my hand. That scrape on my knuckles from a few days ago.”

“So, what happened?”

Ace thought for a moment as he remembered the blue light that had appeared and healed his wounds. It had been beautiful, but had disappeared as soon as it had appeared. Perhaps it stayed longer with larger wounds?

However, when he told Izo about it, he said, “I don’t think you have to worry about it. It sounds like he didn’t use a spell, so he wouldn’t have a need to know runes. He has healing powers within him, but obviously stronger than mine.”

Ace just hummed. The whole magic business eluded him, if he were honest, so usually, he left those kinds of things to Izo. He had never been in contact with magic before he had been captured, and they had made this monster out of him. Subconsciously, Ace felt at his necklace. The beads of the necklace were now made of clay rather than candlewax - since Izo had to improvise when they were in the elven village. Clay was much more stable than wax, which meant that Ace’s necklace lasted for years before it had to be replaced. Ace completely relied on Izo to stay human. In the past few decades, he had learned Izo was trustworthy, not only because it had been Izo who had saved him from the elves when they were going to get rid of him. Ace never felt like he was able to repay Izo for that, no matter much time they spent together. If something happened to Izo, Ace was screwed too. He would transform into that beast and kill everything and everyone he found in his path. In his dragon form, he couldn’t distinguish between friend and foe, and that was what scared him the most. It had happened to him a few times, once before the elves had come, and after, when Izo’s magic had worn off from the necklace. Fortunately, Izo had always been there to transform him back and make a new necklace, but Ace would do anything to prevent it from happening again.

Ace was woken from his depressing thoughts by Izo letting out a snore. Ace couldn’t help but chuckle. Usually, Izo was grace itself, the way he carried himself. He would die if he heard he had snored in the most undignified manner imaginable. Ace couldn’t wait to tell him. First, though, he would let him sleep, as he needed to mentally prepare himself for Izo’s wrath after the shock had worn off. No one would protect him from Izo now, not now that it was just the two of them.

Ace still had a hard time believing they had been ditched by the troupe, even if they hadn’t particularly liked them in the first place. They would have to find a new way to earn money. Perhaps he and Izo could still use their tricks, though they would be travelling artists rather than a proper troupe. At least they had some money to sustain them for a while. Ace wasn’t necessarily against stealing - after all, it wasn’t his first time pickpocketing, even if it had been by accident this time - but if he could make a somewhat honest living, he would prefer that.

However, he suddenly realised, there was one tiny problem. They may have money, but they didn’t have food or water. As if on cue, Ace’s stomach started to rumble, and he cursed. That was another thing the troupe had never liked about him, his insatiable appetite. It wasn’t his fault, though; he had had a normal appetite until those bastards cursed him. Unfortunately, Izo couldn’t help him with that, as he couldn’t help Ace with his weird golden eyes which was another consequence of the experimenting on him. In any case, he needed lots of food to sustain himself, and of course Izo needed to eat as well. Ace’s stomach rumbled again, reminding him that this wasn’t something that would go away. He should have let Marco buy him something to eat, dammit! What if he starved to death?

Salvation was near, however, as a small village loomed on the horizon. Ace pressed his heels in the horse’s flanks to speed it up. A voice inside his head reminded him that they shouldn’t stay too long, as Marco would probably chase them to get his horse back. On the other hand, Marco didn’t have a horse to chase them on, since they were sitting on it, so they should have a large lead by now.

As Ace steered them towards the village, he shook Izo awake, who made a rather uncharming snort as he woke.

“What?” he snapped, as soon as he was fully awake.

“We need food,” Ace explained and dismounted.

Izo looked around, still not entirely awake, until his eyes widened. “You brought us to a village?!” he hissed. “People can _not_ see me like this!”

“Didn’t you say you were always pretty?” Ace asked teasingly. If looks could kill, Izo would have murdered him a long time ago.

“Fine,” Izo finally said with a sigh, “but I’ll need to freshen up.” He made to climb off the horse.

“Careful, you don’t want to fall again.” Ace knew he was pushing his luck, but he couldn’t help himself. It wasn’t every day Izo did something stupid, so he needed to enjoy it to the fullest.

“I never fell,” Izo spat. “The way I landed was exactly how I planned it.” With his usual grace, he hopped off the horse.

Ace had to bite his lip not to tease him some more, but he decided he didn’t want to die yet. From their luggage, he dug up Izo’s cloak as a form of peace offering. Izo was partially right; with his current appearance, the mark on his neck was visible and would no doubt get them into trouble. Izo either had to fix his make-up or wear something with a high collar, which was where the cloak came in. It had such a collar, and Izo always wore it unless it was too hot or during a performance. It was autumn now anyway, something which Ace needed to remind himself of often enough, as the cold didn’t bother him, courtesy of his curse.

They tied up the horse and entered the village. They needed food, of course, and to fill up their waterskins. The latter they could do at the well, which would undoubtedly be present in or near the village, so Ace would start with that first while Izo could freshen up. After that, they could ask around if there was somewhere he could buy food.

Asking someone wouldn’t pose a problem, as people stopped working as soon as they passed by, and a large group gathered around them. Of course, they were rather a sight to behold, even if Izo was trying to hide his face desperately. They definitely looked like performers, and it was obvious that these people didn’t see a sight like this often.

“Why are they all staring?” Izo hissed from behind his hands. It was a rhetorical question, no doubt, but Ace decided to answer anyway.

“I don’t think they see strangers often, much less travelling performers,” he said. “Besides, don’t you usually love being watched?”

“Not when I look like _this_!” Izo pointed at his smudged makeup brusquely.

Ace tried his best not to laugh. “At least they didn’t hear you snore, then they would have another reason to stare,” he muttered.

Izo’s eyes widened comically in horror. “I do not _snore_ ,” he hissed.

“Whatever you say.” Ace put up a charming smile and stepped in the direction of a random man that was watching them. “Excuse me, kind sir, would you happen to know where we can find water and some food? We’re travellers, you see, and we’re currently without either. We can pay, though.” He shook Marco’s pouch, and the coins chimed together.

The man looked at him suspiciously, pushing a girl that peeked around his legs behind him again, as if he expected Ace to harm her. Then he wordlessly pointed in a seemingly random direction.

Ace looked at where he pointed slightly confused. “Thank you,” he said, bowing deeply, which seemed to catch the man off guard. “Come on.”

Izo followed him silently, his eyes flicking to the villagers, ready to act if they attacked. Performers were always looked upon with suspicion, because they were strangers, and odd ones at that. Ace had to admit that there was some truth to that, as he sometimes had used the distraction of the performance to pickpocket the unsuspecting audience. However, that was the extent of their criminal activity, but people always seemed to think they would do something worse. Curse or hex people for example. As far as Ace knew, Izo was the only one capable of doing that and he would never use that against innocent people, but humans were very wary of magic and magical beings. None of the villagers moved, however.

Apparently, the man had pointed them to a well, which was easy enough to find. Ace lowered the bucket into it. However, when he was bringing it up again, this time filled with water, his stomach decided remind him how hungry and weak he was. Ace staggered, and the bucket fell down into the well again with a splash. Ace leaned with his hands on the edge of the well as he tried to compose himself. Black spots were dancing before his eyes, and his arms trembled. He turned around and sat on the edge, but decided that was a bad idea when he almost fell backwards into the depth behind him and sank to the ground with his back against the bricks of the well, covering his eyes with his hands.

“Are you alright?” Izo asked, though he probably knew what was wrong. He knew how weak Ace became when he was hungry.

Ace nodded, but didn’t bother to look up. He heard a splashing sound again; apparently, Izo had taken it upon himself to haul up the water. Ace closed his eyes as he listened to the water splashing around. Izo was washing his face, no doubt. A moment later, the bucket of water was placed next to him.

“Drink,” Izo ordered, and Ace did as he was told. After that, he finally looked up. Izo had indeed washed off his old make-up and had tidied himself up. However, without the make-up, his pale skin and the dark circles under his eyes betrayed his current state. “Why don’t you let me hold on to the money?”

Ace wiped the water dripping from his chin away. “Why?”

“‘Cause you need food, and you’re in no state to buy it yourself. Now hand it over.” Izo held out his hand, beckoning impatiently. He paused for a moment and added, “I _may_ have obtained some money as well, so I’ll add yours to that.”

With a sigh, Ace did as he was told, deciding it would be better if he didn’t ask.

“Good boy. I will buy food while you sit here. Get some more water if you feel like it. After that, we can get out of here.” Izo turned to leave, but Ace scrambled to his feet and called him back.

“Wait!”

Izo turned around and looked at him impatiently. It was clear he hadn’t slept off his drunkenness yet.

Ace opened his mouth, but hesitated for a moment. If they had still been with their troupe, they wouldn’t have bothered to put up a performance here. That fact alone kind of made Ace want to do one, as a big fuck you to them. Besides, these people had probably never seen anything of the sort. However, the state Izo was currently in, he would probably never agree to do a performance, especially not since technically, they had enough money to last for a while. On the other hand, Izo loved to be the centre of the attention, and it was a fact that he always stole the show, even if he only had one major act. However, Izo’s look betrayed that his patience was running thin, and if Ace didn’t say something intelligent fast, he would regret it. “How about we give a performance here?” he hastily said.

Izo froze in his movements. “A performance?” he asked. “You and me?”

“Why not? Our troupe would have neglected to even look at this village. And it seems like these people could use some entertainment. Obviously, they don’t trust strangers,” Ace explained.

Izo kept silent as he seemed to think it over. “I’ll get you something to eat first. You can’t perform in this state anyway.” With that, he turned around and left.

With a grin, Ace placed his hands against the back of his head and sat back against the well again. It seemed like Izo couldn’t resist the call of performance after all, even if he was still half drunk. Or perhaps because of that.

It didn’t take long for Izo to return with his arms full of food. The bread he was holding smelled freshly baked and delicious, and Ace hastily wiped his mouth when he noticed he had started to drool. Izo gave him a knowing look and handed him a whole bread. Ace immediately started to stuff his face, but after an eyebrow raise from Izo, he hastily swallowed and bowed his head.

“Thank you for the food.”

Izo nodded approvingly and sat down next to Ace, taking a bite out of an apple. While he was chewing, he watched Ace put away the food with a mixture of fascination and disgust, a look Ace was used to by now. After he had swallowed, Izo started to talk. “The people here trust us even less than in the cities. The only way they would sell me anything was after I had promised to do a performance, and only because they were curious. They’ve never seen performers before.”

“So we do a show?” Ace asked excitedly.

Izo shrugged. “I don’t see why not. These people could use some excitement in their lives.”

“And you’re up to it? You still look a little...” Ace trailed off when he received a sharp look from Izo, implying that ending his sentence with any other word than ‘fabulous’ or ‘amazing’ would result in a slow and painful death. He grinned sheepishly. “As great as always.”

Izo rolled his eyes. “Sucking up won’t do you any good. Anyway, finish your food. We have to perform at sunset.”

Ace did as he was told without any reluctance, and once his body had realised he had eaten, he felt much better and was actually becoming a little drowsy. He leaned against the well with his eyes closed. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but he was startled awake when Izo kicked against his shin. Rubbing the sore spot, he scrambled to his feet.

They picked up the horse from just outside the town. It had had the chance to eat some grass, but they still had to give it something to drink. The only luggage they had with them were some of their props, because the rest of the troupe couldn’t use them anyway. They would need a tent and sleeping bags, though, especially since it was autumn and there was a good chance of rain. Perhaps the villagers would be generous enough to give them a tent if they liked the show.

Slowly, villagers started to gather on the small square where the well was stationed, starting with children who were very curious about these strange performers. Ace entertained them with some simple juggling while Izo retreated to make himself ready for the performance. Unlike Ace, Izo’s philosophy was that a performer should look their best, because they were part of the act, so he always took time to dress up. Ace, on the other hand, preferred it if people just watched what he did, not him. His tunic was bright orange, which was probably why Marco hadn’t seemed surprised when Ace said he was a performer, so his clothes did draw attention, but they were nowhere near as flashy as what Izo liked to wear. Izo _was_ the act, while Ace only performed it.

Fortunately for Ace, his audience wasn’t used to complicated acts, and especially the children watched him in awe. By now, most of the village had gathered to watch him, and he decided to spice things up by juggling with one hand and throwing the balls from underneath his leg. However, no matter how unspoiled the onlookers were, just juggling became boring at a certain point, even after Ace had interchanged the balls with pins.

Ace decided it was time for the next step. His performance always consisted of several smaller acts in a row or interchanged with the rest of the troupe. Since Izo wasn’t back yet, it was time to move on with the more interesting stuff. From his luggage, Ace retrieved special balls on chains which he held in the fire he had made beforehand next to the well. The balls caught fire easily, as was the intention, but they wouldn’t burn to a crisp. His part of the show, with lots of fire, was more beautiful at night, and now it was starting to get dark. The audience gasped when he started to twirl the chained balls around. He wouldn’t burn himself even if he made a mistake, but this act was routine for him. With ease, he let the balls fly through the air, wind whizzing past them.

The audience applauded, and Ace made a bow. He extinguished the flames on the balls with a special fireproof cloth, but he was nowhere near done yet. Even if Izo was done putting on his makeup, he was probably watching in the shadows, waiting until Ace had finished his routine. Ace took out his next props. This time, he grabbed two batons, of which he lit either ends on fire. He twirled them around in his hands, before throwing them up in the air. When they came back down, Ace caught them easily. He never stopped spinning them, so it started to look like there were circles of fire around his hands. The children in the audience were gaping at him, and the adults seemed equally impressed.

Ace moved on to the grand finale. He took one of the batons and killed the fire on one end by putting it in his mouth. Most people would assume it was a trick, but Ace wasn’t sensitive to heat. He was a dragon after all, and fire couldn’t hurt him. The audience, however, was thoroughly impressed and someone screamed when he killed two more ends of the batons in the same manner. One end was still burning. Ace took a large draught from a flask he always carried with him, but didn’t swallow the content. Instead, he held the flaming end of the baton near his mouth and spit out the liquid in his mouth. It caught fire, making it look like he was breathing fire. It was kind of ironic, since he was a dragon and all, but the viewers loved it. Ace repeated his action, making a mental note that he should buy more alcohol, breathing fire to the now completely dark sky. The audience went wild when he took a bow, applauding like they didn’t care if their hands fell off.

“How about we take a short break before continuing with our programme?” Ace said once he had straightened again. “Maybe light a few more torches.”

A few villagers left to get the torches probably, as Ace put out the last baton. Several children ran up to him, asking away nineteen to the dozen about how he did his tricks, despite their parents giving them disapproving looks. Even if he performed an entertaining show, Ace was still a stranger after all. He explained to the children that he couldn’t give away his secrets, at which they sighed in unison disappointedly, but he did show them how to juggle and let them try for themselves.

While the villagers made some more light and the children were occupied, Ace snuck away to see if Izo was ready. He could hold the attention of the audience with his tricks only for so long. Fortunately, Izo was standing ready, the makeup on his lips and around his neck matching the red embroidery of his robe. His cloak he had put away, as it would only be in the way of his performance. While he looked fabulous as always, somehow, he appeared to be a little nervous. “Usually, I’m accompanied by several instruments. How are you gonna pull that off?”

Ace reached in his back pocket and pulled out the flute that had been in his luggage. “I’ll accompany you on this.” When he saw Izo’s disapproving look, he continued, “Be glad I didn’t get the ukulele. Besides, you don’t need music to look amazing.”

“Oh, please.” The gesture Izo made said stop, but his attitude said go on.

Ace rolled his eyes. Izo was just fishing for compliments, not that that hadn’t happened before, but he knew exactly how fabulous he looked and how much the audience loved his performance. “You’re amazing and everyone loves you. Now just _go_.” He pushed Izo in full regalia in the middle of the circle the villagers had formed.

Izo produced two fans from out of nowhere - even after all these years, Ace still didn’t know how he did it - and with a smile, he opened them, holding one of them in front of his face. The audience became silent when Ace started to play the flute, a soft, soothing melody, and all eyes were on Izo, per usual. Izo slowly started moving in rhythm with the music, dancing almost sensually. When he was sure he had the villagers’ attention, he moved to the fire that was burning in the middle of the circle. With his fans, he started to fan, still in rhythm with the melody Ace was playing, as if he formed the smoke into shapes. In reality, he was using his magic, but their audience didn’t need to know that. Most humans weren’t used enough to magic not to fear it after all.

Izo moved his fans until the smoke, which had coloured white and luminescent while he was shaping it, had been formed into the shape of several small butterflies. He pulled his fans back as if setting them free and continued his dance as the audience gasped, flicking his wrist. Immediately, the butterflies flew against each other per two, melting into a new, bigger form of birds. The birds flew around freely as Izo danced, moving between the villagers as well, but fleeing out of the way when grabby hands reached for them. Izo moved his arms in a certain way again, and the birds gathered around him. They dove to the ground, turning into cats.

With every change in shape, Ace sped up the music he was playing, as practiced, and so did Izo’s movements. The cats walked around for a little while, before Izo made them jump into the air, where they became hawks made of smoke. Next, the hawks turned into foxes, who in turn changed into eagles. Each time, the smoke animals became a little bigger, merging together, and less of them walked or flew about. Wolves had turned into albatrosses, which changed into horses. Izo seemed to be really into it, because he made the horses run into each other, forming a dragon. Ace missed a note, and several people in the audience screamed when the dragon seared over their heads. Izo usually used the dragon in large cities where people demanded something impressive, but for this audience, the wolves had already been a bit much.

Izo seemed to realise his mistake and hastily moved his hands. The dragon fell apart into small bunnies, which seemed to work much better for the villagers. As Ace let the music fade, Izo stopped dancing with his arms in the air, and when he moved them down, the smoke rabbits poofed away, disappearing into thin air.

The audience gave him a standing ovation - insofar they hadn’t been standing already. Izo smiled and held out his hand for Ace to join him as they bowed together. Slowly, the audience slunk away, though several children stayed behind, forcing their parents to do the same, as they asked Izo all kinds of questions.

“Don’t these people realise we didn’t do this for free?” Ace sighed.

“At least we gave them an evening to remember,” Izo said as he signed his name on a paper for some girl. He was loving every moment of attention he got. “Besides, we have money.”

“Charity doesn’t get us a tent,” Ace replied with a snort.

“You need a tent?” a grim voice said behind them, and Ace froze.

Turning around, he recognised the man that had pointed them curtly to the well, and Ace smiled sheepishly. “Well, yeah. We recently split up with our troupe over,” he exchanged a look with Izo, “creative differences, and now we’re in need of a tent and sleeping bags and the sort.”

The man hummed and plucked his moustache. “For now, you can sleep in the barn over there.” He pointed to a wooden building. “Tomorrow we can talk about getting you a tent.”

“A barn?” Izo said, making a face, but Ace elbowed him in the ribs.

“Thank you. That’s very kind.”

                                                                  

* * *

The next morning Ace awoke when someone entered the stable, whistling loudly. He peered over the edge of the hayloft where he and Izo were lying. After the show, they had been shown to the barn, where their horse could stay as well, and their belongings had been carried in. Ace had fallen asleep as soon as he lay down in the soft hay, and now that no one was kicking in their sleep or snoring, like some of their troupe members had, Ace had slept through the night.

The man who had entered was feeding the animals, but when he was about to leave again, he stopped at their new horse, petting it gently.

“Good morning,” Ace said, startling the man. He recovered quickly, however.

“Morning, son. This is one beautiful horse you’ve got there. She looks well-fed.”

“Oh, it’s a her?” Ace asked. Since he had left in a hurry the previous day, he had never thought about checking.

The man raised an eyebrow. “You don’t know whether your horse is male or female?”

“Well, in my defence, we don’t have her that long,” Ace said, leaning with his head on his hand. “We only eh… acquired her yesterday.”

“Still, if you buy a horse, you should know everything about it,” the man said in a reprimanding tone.

“We didn’t buy her. And you know what they say about looking a gift horse in the mouth,” Ace replied with a grin.

The man hummed and walked around the animal, who was eating some hay undisturbed. “Well, like I said, she’s a fine horse. Well trained, soft, shiny fur,” he looked underneath the hooves, “new shoes. Can’t be older than a day. The person who gave you this horse must be very generous.”

Ace grinned as he thought back about his encounter with Marco. “You have no idea.”

“Anyway,” the man continued, “the village elder has arranged for you to have a tent and the rest of the things you’ve requested. When you’re finished here, you should come to his house.”

“Thank you! We’ll be happy to pay something for it,” Ace said cheerfully, but winced when he suddenly felt a foot connecting with his shin. Izo wasn’t much of a kicker, not in his sleep anyway, causing Ace to suspect he was very much awake, even if he had his back still turned to Ace. “We’ll be there soon,” Ace called down to the man, who just shrugged and left.

Ace kept up his smile as long as the man was inside, but as soon as he disappeared from view, Ace rubbed at his shin and turned to Izo. “What the hell was that for?”

Izo sat up. “If these kind people want to give us things, who are we to deprive them of that joy?” He sighed as he picked some hay out of his hair. “God, I hate hay.”

“Aren’t you the one who said we didn’t do it for money?”

Izo waved his hand and made a ‘psh’-sound. “We didn’t, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t allowed to express their gratitude. Come on, let’s go before they change their minds.”

They dusted themselves off as much as possible and after saddling the horse, they left the stable. The house of the village elder wasn’t difficult to find, as a large group of people had gathered in front of it. As soon as they say Ace and Izo approach, they started applauding. Ace smiled while Izo relished in the attention.

Once the applause had died down, the village elder, a small old man, cleared his throat. “Strangers,” he said, “we didn’t give you much of a warm welcome, yet you were so generous as to show us a memorable evening. Not many performers would take the time to do that. You’ve inspired many of our youngers, so we want to thank you by giving you these items.” He gestured behind him, where two men stepped forward, one carrying what looked like a folded up tent and the other two sleeping bags.

“Thanks,” Ace said with a grin and stuck out his hands to take the items, only to be elbowed in the ribs by Izo, who stepped forward and made a curtsy. He hastily bowed and thanked them properly.

“It was our pleasure.”

After they had fastened the tent to the horse and received some lunch packages from generous villagers, Ace and Izo mounted the animal, though Izo insisted that he would ride in front today. With lots of waving and calls goodbye, they left the village behind them.

“That wasn’t as much a waste of time as I feared,” Izo said contentedly.

“You’re just pleased you have gained more people in your fanbase,” Ace replied with a snort.

Izo huffed, but Ace was sure he smiled.

They had been pointed into the direction of the next town, which was easy, as they only had to follow the river. The town, called Sabaody, would be bigger than the small village they left behind, so they might make some money. They travelled all day, only taking a few stops. Ace didn’t know why, but he had a bad feeling. He couldn’t place his finger on what caused it, however, he just knew they needed to hurry.

Late in the afternoon, when the sun was starting to set, they didn’t have much of a choice but set up camp. After some quarrelling, they finally figured out how the tent worked and managed to set it up without tearing anything. Izo commented on how glad he was there was no hay in sight, and after dinner, they both turned in quite soon, after having taken care of the horse.

The next morning, they both slept in late. Izo announced he wasn’t hungry much and would go for a swim in the river. Ace couldn’t blame him; after all, Izo hated nothing more than to feel dirty, and no doubt there would still be some hay left in his hair.

Once Izo had left, Ace made an elaborate breakfast. The nagging feeling he had had the day before was still there, but he decided to ignore it. What could go wrong? They had a horse and a tent, and it wasn’t like Marco could catch up with them without a mount and money to buy a new one. So why spoil his breakfast with concerned thoughts?

Ace was just about ready to take down the tent after putting out the fire, when he heard voices in the distance. Looking up, he saw two horsemen approaching, though one seemed to be rather small. His eyes, better at spotting small prey than the average human, quikly noticed something familiar about the smaller rider - though he was pretty sure the rider himself wasn’t small at all. In fact, he had seen said horseman tower over him just two days before when Ace had been on his knees in front of him. His eyes widened. How had Marco found him? And why was he wearing armour now? Ace was in a cold sweat. If he had _known_ Marco was a knight, he wouldn’t have been as stupid as to steal his horse! Panicking, Ace did the only thing that seemed to make sense at this point, flee and hide. He ran towards the nearest tree and climbed it, praying that he would survive this day.

It would seem that he had made a giant miscalculation - or two small ones, though that didn’t make it any better. He had assumed that a) Marco was travelling alone, since he seemed like a loner, and b) that Ace had taken _all_ of his money so he couldn’t buy a new mount. It appeared both were untrue. Marco’s companion, whom Ace didn’t recognise from the inn a few days before, turned his horse and made for the river. Ace wondered if he should warn Izo, but if he did, he would give away his hiding place.

Marco rode in the direction of the camp on what seemed to be a pony. It looked rather ridiculous, seeing a grown man on top of such a small horse, and Marco’s knees were so close to the ground they could almost touch it. Despite the bizarre spectacle, Ace knew better than to laugh out loud, though it was hard to control himself. He did, however, feel for the pony, though the animal hardly seemed to notice someone was on its back. Ace seemed to recall a type of super strong pony that was used in the north a lot, though the name escaped him.

Marco dismounted and slowly made his way closer to the camp, his sword ready. He didn’t seem to have noticed Ace before he had climbed in the tree, which was a good thing, but he did spot the horse soon enough. He caressed the horse’s nose with a tenderness Ace hadn’t expected at the moment, seeing that Marco looked ready to kill someone. And unless Ace would have traded or sold the horse, that person would be Ace. Ace wondered who had it worse, him or Izo. He didn’t doubt Marco was furious; his pose betrayed as much. Then again, Ace had no idea what Marco’s companion was like. Marco could be the mild mannered one of the two for all he knew. Still, Izo had his powers, and Ace didn’t doubt he could handle himself, no matter how big, mean and strong his opponent was. He decided to worry about himself first.

Gripping his hand tightly around the hilt of his sword, Marco slowly approached the tent that was still standing. He jerked the canvas aside and peered inside, ready to attack, only to find empty sleeping bags. Marco then turned around, his eyes flicking from side to side to take in his surroundings. He kneeled by the place where Ace had made a fire to cook his breakfast and felt at the ashes. No doubt they were still warm, and Marco had to conclude that Ace had to be close by.

Ace knew it would only be a matter of time before he was discovered. Marco could sit and wait here all day if he chose to do so. Of course, he could also just take his horse back, but Ace doubted Marco would leave without taking revenge.

Suddenly, Marco looked around, looking straight at Ace, who was trying to make himself as small as possible in the tree. Ace sat frozen for a moment, but before Marco could do anything, Ace dove out of the tree without thinking. Marco didn’t have time to brace himself for Ace’s full weight before he landed on him, and they both fell to the ground. Marco lay still for a moment, eyes wide in shock, and Ace didn’t do anything either. However, Ace beat Marco to the punch again and jumped to his feet. As fast as he could he ran toward the stolen horse and jumped on its back, ready to ride away.

Marco whistled sharply, and the treacherous animal seemed to prefer its old master over its new, as it neighed and reared up so that Ace fell unelegantly to the ground. He managed to roll over without injuring himself, but before he could scramble to his feet, Marco was already towering over him, the tip of his sword not even an inch away from the tender flesh of Ace’s throat. Ace swallowed hard as he looked at the sharp steel that glistened in the light of the sun.

Marco smirked triumphant. “There’s no way out this time.”

Ace raised up his hands in a defensive manner. “You can’t kill me,” he said, never taking his eyes of the blade.

“Why’s that?” Marco cocked his head to the side a little.

“Because you’re a knight. You have vowed to protect the weak and,” he placed the back of his hand against his forehead as if he were going to faint before continuing in a dramatic manner, “I’m so weak.”

Marco raised a sceptical eyebrow. “First of all, I highly doubt you’re weak. Secondly,” a disturbing smirk appeared on his face, “I was never knighted.”

Realising the implication of that tiny fact, Ace’s eyes widened in fear. There was nothing stopping Marco from running him through with his sword, except maybe Marco’s conscience, but at the moment Ace doubted Marco had one. Ace had been caught redhanded stealing Marco’s horse, and Marco had every right to punish him.

That didn’t mean Ace was about to let that happen, though. He grabbed a handful of ashes - which were still warm - and threw it into Marco’s face. Marco immediately turned away, trying to get the ashes out of his eyes, and Ace used the momentary distraction to take his heels.

He started running towards the river, where Izo should be. He didn’t doubt that Izo had already made work from Marco’s companion. Now if Izo could also do something about the apparently-not-a-knight who wanted to kill him…

The distance to the river was longer than Ace had expected or wanted, and he could hear heavy footsteps following him. Marco had recovered and was probably even more bloodthirsty than before. Ace’s hand reached to his necklace, and for a moment, he contemplated to screw it all and transform into a dragon. He rejected the thought almost right away, however, because it was a horrible idea. As a dragon, Ace would devour Marco without second thought, and he didn’t deserve that. It was Ace’s own fault Marco was angry with him, after all. Besides, in dragon form he would also eat the innocent horses, and he didn’t like that.

Finally, the river came into view, and Ace saw Izo standing, dressed in the cloak that covered the mark on his neck. Next to him was Marco’s companion, for some reason sitting on all fours with his tongue out of his mouth and he was… barking.

“You turned him into a dog?” Ace asked as he hid behind Izo’s back.

“Puppy,” Izo corrected him, his perfect eyebrow raised. “And I didn’t turn him into one, he just thinks he is one. Why are you hiding?”

His answer came soon enough as Marco sprinted towards the river as well. With his eyes red from the ashes, he looked even more frightening.

“Oh,” Izo said, as if everything was explained now - and perhaps it was.

“Do something!” Ace called.

“That’s what you get for stealing someone’s property,” Izo said reprimanding.

Marco had almost reached them, and Ace started running for his life again, in circles around Izo.

“I get it! Stealing is bad! Even though I didn’t hear _you_ complain when you didn’t have to walk,” he said reproachfully. “Just do something!”

Izo started chanting something, but Marco’s companion, who had just looked on for a while, apparently decided they were playing and tackled Izo to the ground so he couldn’t finish his new spell.

However, that was enough to distract Marco and he stopped in his tracks as he watched his companion _lick_ Izo’s face.

“Thatch, what the hell are you doing?” he snapped.

His companion - Thatch, apparently - looked up like he knew he did something bad. Izo used the distraction to push Thatch away from him as he sat up and muttered, “Maybe a puppy wasn’t a good idea.”

“Puppy?!” Marco barked. He looked from Izo to Thatch, who was still sitting on all fours. Finally, Marco turned to Izo. “What the hell did you do to him?!”

“I turned him into a puppy,” Izo deadpanned as he dusted himself off.

Marco seemed a bit lost what to do. His sword was still dangling in his hand, but it didn’t look like he was going to use it anytime soon. “Well, turn him back,” he finally said, a bit dismayed.

Izo crossed his arms before his chest, and Ace had to be impressed how he was holding his own to Marco, even if Marco looked a little deflated right now. “Why should I?”

Thatch was looking from one to the other, and Ace didn’t doubt he would be wagging his tail if he had one. Finally, Thatch decided to break the tension and jumped Marco, tackling him to the ground. Marco was caught off guard and let go of his sword as he tried to push Thatch off him. Ace dove to the sword and picked it up, holding it defensively in front of him. Still, it was very hard not to laugh at Marco, who only minutes before had looked like an angry beast and was now licked by a grown man - and not in a pleasant way.

“Turn. Him. Back!” Marco yelled, obviously at loss what to do in this situation.

“Let’s hope he is house-trained,” Izo said dryly, and Marco looked at him with comically large shocked eyes. Izo snapped his fingers and pointed next to him. “Down, boy.”

Reluctantly, Thatch stopped licking Marco and obediently sat down next to Izo.

Marco sat up and wiped his face with his hand. “Ulg, now I’m ever more glad that night never happened,” he muttered, but Ace caught his words.

“What night?” he asked curiously, the sword still firmly pointing at Marco.

Marco looked at him darkly and didn’t reply. He obviously realised he was in a bad position here, without his sword and with someone that could turn people into puppies next to him. Ace had never held a sword before, but how hard could it be to swing something like that around? He had seen people do it with easy. It was a little heavier than he had expected, though.

Marco rose to his feet, holding his hands up defensively when Ace aimed the sword at him. He then looked at Izo. “Could you please turn him back? He is annoying enough as it is without your interference.”

“Only if you promise not to kill me,” Ace hastily said. “Or Izo.”

“I’m Izo,” Izo said to clarify.

Marco looked him up and down and sighed. “Fine, whatever. Thatch would get pissed at me if I did anything to you, anyway.” He nodded at Izo. “He’s even more annoying then.”

Izo looked at Ace, who turned to Marco. “Do you swear it?” he asked skeptically.

Marco raised his right hand. “On my honour as a knight,” he said with a smirk.

“Liar!” Ace called. “You told me you weren’t knighted!” He gripped the sword more tightly.

Marco sighed. “Fine, I swear. Can I get my sword back?”

“Will you let us keep the horse?”

Marco’s eyes narrowed. “No.”

Ace looked at Izo, who shrugged as he scratched a pleased looking Thatch behind his ear.

“Well?” Marco asked impatiently.

Ace exchanged another look with Izo and then said, “Why should we trust you?”

“Trust me? You’re the horse thief.”

“You’re the one pretending to be a knight,” Ace shot back.

“I’m not pretending to be anything. I never said I was one, did I?” Marco asked sharply. He took a step closer to Ace, who gripped the sword he was holding tighter.

Suddenly, Marco kicked the sword, knocking it out of Ace’s hand. Before Ace could retrieve it, Marco had grabbed him by his hair and was holding a knife to his throat that had seemingly appeared out of nowhere. “Turn Thatch back,” he said threateningly.

Ace swallowed hard as a sharp blade was for the second time that day too close for comfort.

Izo, however, didn’t flinch. “I could turn you into a puppy too without breaking a sweat and before you even have the chance to slice his throat.”

Marco pulled Ace closer - though not in the way Ace would have wanted it. “Are you sure you’re quick enough?”

Izo was about to retort, but Ace held up his hands. “Guys, guys! Can we all just be cool here and not wager with my life? Marco, could you please let go of me?”

Thatch barked and took a step forward. Hesitantly, Marco did as he was asked, and the grip on Ace’s hair loosened.

Ace heaved a sigh of relief and smoothed out his tunic. “Okay, now that that’s over with, Izo, maybe you could change his friend back.”

“Are you sure?” Izo asked. “He saw _it_.”

Ace immediately knew what Izo was talking about: the mark that branded him a necromancer even though he wasn’t one.

“Did he know what it meant?” Ace asked, staying as cryptical as possible so that Marco wouldn’t know what they’re talking about.

Izo hesitated. “I don’t think so,” he said slowly. “He saw it last time too, when I-” He coughed. “Last time,” he repeated.

“Then I think it’s safe to turn him back.” Ace turned to Marco. “Just remember what you promised! No killing anyone!”


	5. Chapter 5

Even though this wasn’t a spell Izo used very often, the words to reverse it came to him without a second thought, tumbling out with a whisper. Thatch stilled for a moment as all the words were spoken before crumpling to the ground. Izo wasn’t worried about it, knowing full well what breaking a spell looked like, but Marco jumped forward, entirely too alarmed for the situation. Izo could have laughed at how Thatch hit the ground like a sack of potatoes, but refrained for the sole reason that Marco would probably stab him if he dared to let out a sound.

Barely a moment later, Thatch’s eyes snapped open, and he drew in a deep breath, immediately sneezing from the dust he’d inhaled with his face pressed to the ground.

“What the…?” he grumbled as he tried to pick himself up from the dirt, Marco finally being of use as he helped Thatch up.

Izo could hear some muffled curses from Marco, some fairly creative sounding and he couldn’t help but be a tiny bit impressed. He looked away from the two of them and chanced a glance towards Ace, noting an uncharacteristically worried look on his face. That, in turn, made Izo worry.

Of course he'd known Ace had stolen the horse, he wasn't stupid. At the same time, though, he wasn't that ashamed of their criminal tendencies either, not after everything they'd been through that forced them to provide for themselves with means that were less than law abiding. They'd been over the ethics of their actions many times before and always came to the same conclusion; stealing was technically wrong, but they only took from the rich and never got caught so it was alright.

Except, right now, they did get caught. It served to open Izo’s eyes to just how out of it he’d been since they left the inn, his power so out of his control that he hadn’t even been able to use Onyx as their scout. Not that he’d used her as such very often in the years after they’d escaped out of the elven valley, actually. She was only ever around for company.

If it weren't for Thatch and the fact he'd seen his mark, Izo would be more worried about the horse's owner as well. As it was, Ace was regretfully left to his own devices in dealing with Marco. Naturally, Izo was not about to let anyone get hurt or die, but he was adamant about staying out of that as long as violence wasn't in play.

Izo's thoughts drifted from Ace, and he couldn't help but worry about Thatch. Ace's words had calmed him because he was right, Thatch obviously didn't know what the mark was. But did Marco know? Would Thatch tell him about it? There was too much uncertainty about this and, if it had been his decision, he'd have been long gone before the spell had worn off and Thatch returned to his senses.

Instead, he'd given in to threats and broken the spell. That in itself was proof enough about how distraught he was about the entire situation and still shocked that Thatch showed up in the first place. After all, he and Ace had gotten out of worse situations before and they could easily overpower a knight with one sword and his obviously inexperienced companion, but that option didn't present itself. Izo was regretting everything already.

"Marco!" Thatch yelled suddenly, and Izo noticed he'd snapped out of his confusion, hugging Marco tightly. "You won't believe who I found!"

He was loud and sounded surprisingly happy. It was strange, really, knowing Thatch was talking about him and no one had been this happy to find him in forever. Almost quite literally, actually. And yet, looking at the two of them, Izo couldn't help but notice they were almost like him and Ace.

"Are you sure you reversed the spell completely?" Ace asked dubiously. Izo looked over and noticed Ace looking at the two of them with a confused frown, but there was something else there as well. Izo was sure they were the same thoughts he'd been having, at least partly.

"I think so?" Izo replied, trying to sound sure, but not quite managing it. He wasn't one to doubt his skills, but this was very unusual and now Marco was going to kill them. Great.

"He's always like this," Marco said with an exasperated sigh, sounding winded from all the hugging.

That seemed to make Thatch realise there were two more people there, and he let go of Marco, turning to them with a frown directed at Ace that turned into a grin as soon as he spotted Izo. That too was unusual, finding himself at the receiving end of a smile that bright, and he couldn't help but be surprised.

"Izo!" Thatch yelled, hurrying from Marco's side, and Izo had a brief moment to consider how alarmed Marco looked before Thatch barrelled into him, arms slipping around Izo's middle as he was enveloped into a warm hug. "You didn't run," Thatch said softly, holding on tight as he pulled Izo closer, almost lifting him off the ground.

Just as swiftly, he let go of Izo, stepping back with a smaller smile and an almost fitting sheepishness about him.

"I'm sorry, I should have asked if that was alright," he said, and Izo could do nothing but stare at this. No one left him this speechless. Or speechless at all. People rarely surprised him anymore, especially with kindness, and he had no idea what to do when faced with the sight of someone so...innocent. That was the only word that came to mind when thinking of Thatch and his demeanour, at least since he appeared by the river.

"It's alright," Izo stuttered, still struck by everything Thatch related.

Ace had been obviously surprised as soon as Thatch had moved, Izo could practically feel it, but his muttered 'what' hadn't gone unnoticed, and Izo turned towards him. The look on Ace's face was one of bafflement, obviously just as surprised as Izo had been, and that wasn't something Izo took lightly.

Well, he didn't take anyone other than Ace touching him very lightly either, at least not in a manner that would mean something intimate and familiar, yet he'd accepted it so easily from Thatch. Ironic how he was alright with meaningless sex with strangers if the mood struck, but he wouldn't let anyone but Ace touch him on a regular basis.

Thatch didn't know that, though. Izo wasn't very inclined to tell him either, not about that or the mark.

"So, you have your friend back," Ace said, breaking the silence and drawing all eyes on him. "Nice knowing you two, very lovely experience. Let's never do it again. Goodbye!" he finished and grabbed Izo's hand, dragging him gently, but hurriedly towards their camp and all their things. Onyx chose that moment to pop up on a branch overhead, observing the scene as if she was a pet, ready to get back on the road with her owners. She’d been hidden ever since they escaped town, mostly due to Izo’s hangover that made him unable to maintain her presence solid the entire time.

Izo paid her no mind as he was sure this goodbye wasn't one to stick, but he still followed Ace while Thatch and Marco stood there, no doubt in shock. Ace did have that effect on people when he wanted to, and it eased something in Izo, seeing something familiar that he was used to in the face of whatever it was that astonished him about Thatch. He was sure it had been a lifetime since they'd come across someone genuinely nice and Izo hadn't even been aware of it until just now.

There was a distinct sound of sputtering from behind them, and Izo couldn't help but smile, feeling the way Ace sped up as he heard it too.

"Hold on a minute!" Marco shouted.

Ace did the opposite, dragging Izo with slightly more force while Izo struggled to stop himself from laughing. It was difficult to say what exactly was so amusing in this whole situation: the fact that Ace had obviously seduced and robbed a knight, that the man Izo had seduced then punched was said knight's friend, that they managed to track the stolen horse for almost two days and catch up despite the head start Ace and Izo had, or the fact that Ace was trying to run away once again even if it meant literally  _ running _ for his life.

Parts of that should not be amusing, considering that Izo wasn't keen on dying or losing Ace just yet, but he had a hard time imagining Thatch as a cold blooded killer. Or someone that could stand by while his friend killed two people. He wasn't sure what to think about Marco, though, other than that he was very annoyed with Ace. Izo would love to be surprised about that, he really would, but Ace had that effect on people too.

"You're not going anywhere!" Marco shouted again, and Izo could hear heavy footsteps approaching them quickly now. Of course, Izo and Ace ignored that and what Marco said, Ace finally letting go of Izo so he could go to his stuff, maybe put on some clothes. The air was getting warmer as noon approached so he wasn't exactly cold, but the cloak was breezy without any clothes underneath.

"I think you'll find that we are," Ace replied cheerily, and Izo was chuckling now, amused at Ace's antics. Some things never changed, after all, and Ace antagonising someone that might or might not kill him was unfortunately nothing new. Very stressful for Izo, of course, but not new.

"You're welcome to leave by walking," Marco said, standing far too close to Ace.

Well, in all honesty, Izo wasn't worried about Ace, at least when Marco was concerned. If Marco had wanted Ace dead, Ace would probably be dead by now. No, there was definitely something there between them, even though they both seemed a bit too preoccupied with bickering over whether or not Ace and Izo were leaving to notice. Meanwhile, Thatch seemed to be interested in nothing but him and, after what happened by the river, Izo wasn't sure he liked the attention as much as he usually did. He sighed, not too thrilled about how unusual this day was turning out.

"We'll come with you," Thatch said, voice soft as he looked at Izo. Marco and Ace, however, still heard it and stopped their bickering to stare at Thatch in shocked silence. That seemed to be going around a lot today.

"I'm sorry, what?" Marco asked, looking betrayed.

"We'll travel with them," Thatch repeated, looking over at Marco with a smile. "We found the horse and finished the quest. Now we can start a new one."

"I'm not sure you understand how quests work."

Izo wasn’t sure any of them knew exactly how quests worked, but smartly kept his mouth shut.

"We left the keep because of a rumour you heard years ago," Thatch snarked. "I think this is just as much a quest as that one."

"Quests are supposed to be about something noble that helps people," Marco said, sounding to Izo like the two of them had this discussion already. "Following two thieves is not a noble quest."

"Hey," Ace protested indignantly, "we're artists, not thieves."

“You are so full of shit about these quests,” Thatch muttered at the same time, thought Izo was certain he was the only one to hear, if he didn’t count Onyx as well.

“Thieving artists?” Marco asked, narrowing his eyes at Ace and confirming that he hadn’t heard Thatch’s remark. “Because I can believe that.”

"Performing artists, you ass!" Ace sounded downright scandalised, and Izo smiled yet again. Despite Ace's shortcomings and issues, he was incredibly good at calming Izo's nerves.

"Can we please focus for a moment and you two can go back to your foreplay later," Thatch said with a sigh, sounding exasperated, but Izo could see the underlying amusement there. Probably the same as he felt for Ace.

The expressions Marco and Ace wore were amazing, a unique and hilarious display of shock and embarrassment which was enough to occupy Izo's attention for the moment so he didn't have to focus on what Thatch had been suggesting. Did they really need anyone more than each other? No, Izo didn't think so. They did manage by themselves for this long and had already proven they didn't need other people, including the occasional travelling troupe they'd join just to improve their profits when they were running low on gold.

But this wasn't about needing someone. Thatch and Marco seemed like fun, if one were to look past Marco's murderous tendencies even if Izo still hadn't figured out whether those were a part of Marco's personality or just something Ace brought out in him.

"We don't need you," Ace said, gathering his wits faster than Marco managed as far as Izo could tell. Though, it was hard to be sure with the downright murderous glare Marco was directing at a rather unconcerned looking Thatch.

"I didn't say you do," Thatch spoke calmly, and it almost gave Izo whiplash how he managed to switch between a puppy like persona into a figure that almost radiated authority. "I'm just offering our services as bodyguards and companions on your journey, wherever it may lead you."

"Again, we don't need you."

Izo could see Thatch didn't want to push it while Marco looked like he wanted to tie Thatch to a tree and leave him behind or something of the kind. Meanwhile, Ace was slowly getting that distinct look on his face that suggested that he was contemplating ripping his protective necklace off and just eating their problems.

"We don't need bodyguards," Izo spoke after probably far too long, "but you're welcome to come with us." The words were out before he could think them through properly and, as soon as they were out and brought that impressively bright grin to Thatch's face, Izo knew he couldn't take them back.

It was Ace's turn to look utterly betrayed while Marco outright groaned before turning around and letting his forehead thump against the nearest tree. As far as reactions to such a simple statement went, this one seemed a bit excessive, but Izo didn't give it too much thought.

"What are you saying?" Ace finally asked simply, though Izo could tell he was refraining from saying more because of the company they were in.

"I'm saying that they're welcome to travel with us to the nearest city to keep us company," Izo said, even if he was starting to doubt his own words. This was a truly odd day, and Izo was no longer sure how to deal with that. Well, he supposed that regretting stealing something was bound to happen eventually. Izo just wished it didn't have to turn into a huge  _ situation _ like this. "Now, if you'll excuse me, this was a really long morning, and I would like a nap. Good night."

With that, Izo turned and walked to the tent, entering it swiftly and closing himself inside it before the stunned silence was broken and someone might question him. That didn't happen, luckily, and light chatter started after he settled on top of his sleeping bag, but no one approached the tent and he was relieved.

All alone, Izo finally had the chance to think and consider everything that managed to happen in such a short period of time. He hadn't even managed to panic beyond his instinct to hex people when startled and that didn't exactly turn out for the best this time. Nothing had turned out for the best, actually, and Izo couldn't believe he'd invited someone they'd stolen from to join them on their journey. For heaven's sake, Izo himself had broken Thatch's nose not two full days ago! Well, he'd almost had sex with Thatch not two full days ago too, which could also prove to be problematic at some point. 

That, however, wasn't something he wanted to think about right now so he decided to actually take that nap he'd mentioned. It was becoming an even more appealing idea the more he thought about it, and he found that there was no lie in what he'd said outside, this had indeed been a long day already, and Izo was just so tired. And as soon as that realisation hit, falling asleep wasn't all that difficult. 

Waking was just as easy, albeit less peaceful. Izo startled awake, still lying on top of his sleeping bag wearing nothing but the cloak Thatch put around him earlier. For a moment, it was difficult to say what exactly woke him, but that question was answered not a moment later when another bang sounded from outside. There were no shouts or sounds of distress so Izo allowed himself a few more minutes to wake up completely and find his bearings.

He also found some of his clothes he'd left in the tent, managing to pull on a pair of trousers without removing the cloak. There were more sounds from outside, this time including muttered curses and exasperated sighing, letting Izo know that he was meant to go outside and check if someone was about to be killed. Given the new development in their travelling arrangements, Izo had no idea who was most likely to be dying outside. He was optimistic enough on a good day, but the sounds he could hear weren't exactly doing much to invoke that optimism at the moment.

Feeling more comfortable now that he had some trousers on, Izo let himself out of the tent and allowed himself a moment to stretch before even glancing towards the fire where the other three were sitting. The sun was no longer high in the sky, inching its way towards the horizon and there was a chill in the air that let him know he'd slept through the warmest hours of the day.

Marco, Thatch, and Ace sat around the fire, he could tell that much by just noticing them from the corner of his eye. He turned to assess the situation, noting that the sounds of bickering died out as soon as he stepped out, but wasn't able to hold back the indignant snort of amusement when he saw what the current situation entailed.

There was a fire burning with a pot of something cooking above it. It smelled absolutely delicious, actually, and Izo got momentarily distracted by how hungry he was. That wasn't important at the moment though, not with the way Ace and Marco glared at each other with the fire between them and Thatch taking up an empty spot by the fire where he looked between the two of them with obvious disdain. He perked up when he Izo came out of the tent, but Marco and Ace didn't seem to be noticing much around them. The sight was highly amusing. To Izo at least, because Thatch looked like he was ready to either set himself on fire or cry. 

"Oh, thank the heavens, you're awake," Thatch said with such relief that Izo actually felt bad for him for a moment. Only for a moment, though, because Thatch stood immediately and made his way to Izo's side. "They're driving me mad."

The amusement faded as Izo realised his mistake; now that he was here, Thatch would be glued to him to escape whatever it was that Ace and Marco were up to. From where Izo stood, it looked like they were either just glaring at each other or trying to kill each other with the power of their minds. Either way, the tension between them could be cut with a knife. Not that Izo would take out a knife in front of either of them, they both seemed too keyed up to be around something sharp and deadly.

"What are they doing?"

"They were trying to help with dinner, but Marco seemed a bit too happy to have a knife in his hands so I did all the chopping, and the two of them are now waiting for the food to cook. I think they're trying to make sure no one tries to poison it." His eyes flickered over to where Ace and Marco sat, barely moving except for the occasional stirring of the contents in the pot above the fire.

Izo found it amusing to no end, even if it could get dangerous if the two were left unsupervised for too long. For the moment, though, that wasn't his concern, and with a sigh, Izo looked away and started the short walk towards the river. Dinner didn't seem to be done just yet, and he wanted to wash his face at least before having to deal with anything.

Except, as soon as he ventured into the trees, he heard footsteps trailing behind him. It didn't take a genius to know who it was that followed him, but neither spoke a single word, and Izo left it at that. He did his best to prepare for what would undoubtedly end up being a long conversation and he couldn't let himself panic again. Panic usually meant hexing people and that wouldn't go over well with Marco probably. There's only so many times you can hex someone and get away with it, after all.

The silence from Thatch came as a surprise, though, as they arrived by the river, and Izo bent down to cup his hands and bring some water to his face. He felt himself wake completely, cleaning the grit from his eyes, ignoring the snapping of twigs from behind him. From the sound of it, Thatch was fidgeting and wasn't that an interesting thought. As far as Izo was concerned, Thatch had given off an impression of being sure of himself, confident in his bearings and not a stranger to giving orders. Yet, Izo was almost completely certain there was a cloud of nervousness coming from him. It seemed so odd.

Izo snorted to himself. He'd barely known Thatch for three days, how would he know if Thatch was behaving oddly or not? 

"Will you talk to me?" Thatch asked suddenly, his voice low and barely heard over the sound of the river. Izo considered himself lucky that Onyx was once again perched on a branch above him, easing some of his anxiety.

He still didn't turn or stand from where he'd been crouching by the water. "Talk about what?" he asked even though he knew the answer to that. Stalling for time was the best he could to, even if it was a knee jerk reaction instead of a calculated plan this time.

"About why you ran away," Thatch replied anyway, sounding so utterly confused.

He still hadn't moved, though, not as far as Izo could tell. That wasn't a surprise, not after how he'd apologised for hugging Izo without asking for permission. Izo could admit that this eased some of the dread he was feeling about having this conversation. He wasn't really excited about it, but he'd already accepted Thatch's offer for their company on this journey and it was too late to take it back. There was no way to force him to talk about this if he really didn't want to, but Izo still knew it was past the point with Thatch with how things went between them since they'd met. These were the most turbulent three days Izo had lived through in decades.

"I ran because you saw my mark," Izo said with determination, turning around to face Thatch. A small part of him hoped that the admission about the mark would frighten Thatch and make him leave. Things would surely go back to normal after that.

"I don't understand!" Thatch shouted, still confused and clearly starting to grow frustrated, but Izo couldn't help but note that he still hadn't moved. "Am I supposed to know what it means? Because I don't and you won't explain!"

Izo spared a brief moment to, yet again, remind himself that they've barely known each other for three days and he was on the brink of telling Thatch everything. Just like that, he had to stop. His secret was already out; people weren't meant to know about the mark because it made them jump to some really bad conclusions. But Thatch knew already and he had no idea what the mark meant. Izo had a chance at explaining everything without the threat of pitchforks and bonfires at his back.

This had never happened before. On the very rare occasion that someone found out about it, he had always prioritised running over trying to explain. Not that people listened, usually.

"It's a mark of a captured and convicted necromancer," Izo said, calmer now that he finally realised that the situation was less dire than initially seemed. Still, Thatch's eyes widened at the words and Izo couldn't help a humourless chuckle. "I'm not a necromancer."

"What are you then?"

"I'm just a witch," Izo said, lifting his hand and flicking his wrist, guiding a misty wolf out of the ground, letting it stretch its legs and walk between them. Thatch looked transfixed, his eyes following the wolf's movements with an unwavering intensity.

"What is that mist?" Thatch asked, voice breaking a bit.

It was an odd question and not usually what people asked first, but Izo answered anyway. "It's an illusion of sorts. I can shape it any way I want," he said as he turned his hand and the wolf shifted into the shape of a lion. "You're not asking the questions I was expecting."

"Can I come closer?" Thatch asked, and Izo snorted out a laugh at yet another unexpected question.

He nodded in reply, almost laughing out loud at how eagerly Thatch closed the distance between them, but he still left space between them so as to not crowd into Izo's personal space. His hands moved slowly on their way upwards until his fingers brushed against the collar of Izo's cloak as if asking for permission, and Izo nodded again, with some reluctance this time. The feeling of letting someone look at his neck willingly was an unusual one.

Thatch unbuttoned the collar gently, though, the touch of his fingers feather light once Izo's neck was exposed. He touched the mark lightly, looking at it for a moment.

"Why do you have it?" he asked. "If you're not a necromancer?" His voice was soft, a whisper just between them as if someone else might hear.

This was more along the lines of what Izo expected, but it wasn't any easier to talk about it. Well, he'd never talked about being captured, not even with Ace. They'd just never talked about the time in captivity beyond the consequences they had to endure because of it. It was probably unhealthy, but it'd worked for them so far.

He sighed, though, closing his eyes before speaking. "We were captured, Ace and I. That's how we met. I'm not sure who they were, exactly, but they experimented on us. It was back when the humans were at war with the centaurs and they were winning so we were probably meant to be weapons in some way. That's not important, though." He had to pause, but didn't open his eyes. "That collar is the only way to contain natural magic power in a person, but in these parts, only magic used to interfere with life and death is punishable so the collar leaves a burn in your skin to make you recognisable even if you manage to take it off. The people who put it on me weren't exactly worried about that, they just wanted to make sure I couldn't use magic to escape."

Thatch was quiet, still stroking the mark gently while Izo refused to open his eyes, afraid of what he might see there if he did. Pity was his best guess and he wasn't sure if he wanted to see that.

"My own people think I'm a monster," Thatch said in that same soft tone, but Izo's eyes snapped open as if the words were shouted into his face. "I met Marco when he was paid to kill me in my own home."

Now that he was watching Thatch, Izo could see no pity in his expression, only a strange sort of understanding. It wasn't something he was expecting to find ever, if he were being honest. Then again, a lot of things he wasn't expecting happened to him in just several minutes and he wasn't sure what to think of that.

"Why?" Izo asked, now that it was his turn to ask questions.

"I'm an elemental," Thatch said, determinately maintaining eye contact with Izo even as he said something that looked very difficult to voice, "of darkness. It's uncommon and considered evil. Pretty simple," he finished with a sad smile that didn't come even close to reaching his eyes.

Izo could see Thatch waiting for the pity and rejection, just as Izo had only moments ago, but it was clear that wasn't going to happen. That thought in itself was frightening after what was essentially a lifetime of hiding and living in fear, but this was something Izo could grasp and perhaps keep in his life.

Lifting his hands, Izo cupped Thatch's jaw and slowly leaned in, giving him enough time to move away, but Thatch didn't. Instead, he moved closer, pressing his lips against Izo's. It was far more chaste than the last time they'd done this, but he was sure that might change soon if the way Thatch pulled him close was anything to go by.

Thatch guided him backwards until his back pressed against the nearest tree, Thatch's body leaning into him and keeping him there. It wasn't unlike the first time, and Izo found himself excited at the prospect of finally finishing this, but this was hardly the place for it. Thatch seemed to realise it as well as he broke the kiss, leaning his forehead against Izo's instead.

"We should go back to camp," he whispered. "Dinner is probably done, and Ace might be dead. It's been too quiet."

Izo snorted, sliding his hands down the back of Thatch's neck, gripping at the collar of his shirt. "Please, Ace could take Marco without a problem." The laugh this elicited was bright and loud, almost making up for the fact they obviously wouldn't be doing anything much together just yet.

"I'd rather not find out," he said once he stopped laughing then he pulled back, letting Izo's hands fall from his neck.

They were holding hands when they strode into camp, immediately drawing Marco and Ace's attention. They stopped bickering and stared, their gazes mostly settling on Thatch and Izo's clasped hands.

"Dinner's done," Marco said as he lifted his gaze to Thatch's face. His eyes narrowed when they met Thatch's, but he didn't say anything else. 

Ace, however, did nothing to display tact at all. "You're a mess," he said bluntly, looking at Izo. "There's a branch in your hair. I can't believe they had sex in the woods," he said, directing the last part at Marco, surprisingly enough.

"I can believe it," Marco said with a raised eyebrow before turning to Ace. "Thatch is  _ that _ desperate."

Thatch didn't really seem quite that desperate to Izo, but those two clearly didn't like being left alone.

"He's also  _ that _ good," Izo said, pulling Thatch towards the fire and doing his best not to laugh at the sound of Ace choking on his own tongue. "What are we eating?" he asked as he sat down, a sweet smile on his face directed at Marco. Thatch was just as speechless, but there was unmistakable admiration in his eyes, and Izo could tell they'd all get along better than he’d thought in the morning.

* * *

The only reason Izo hadn't shared a tent with Thatch was that Ace absolutely refused to sleep in a confined space with Marco and his sword. Their relationship hadn't progressed any further from grudgingly agreeing not to kill each other and that was more than Izo had been expecting after seeing them glare at each other. Seeing the two of them very annoyed at each other after being left alone for a while was enough for Izo to decide against betting on whether Marco would snap and smother Ace in his sleep if left alone with him in a tent for an entire night. Thatch seemed to support that decision without question, which was nice.

Several things could be considered nice with more companions, actually. Between the four of them, preparing food was suddenly a much shorter affair and their food supply was far bigger with more diverse ingredients. There were extra hands to pack up the camp and get on the road faster.

Unfortunately, that also came with a set of drawbacks such as the four of them travelling on just three horses. Well, two horses and a pony. There was also the fact that Marco couldn't look at either of them without a glare, though the ones directed at Izo were milder in intensity than the ones reserved for Ace. The biggest issue, though, presented itself after the camp was all packed up and everything was safely fastened to the horses, just waiting for them to begin the journey.

"We are not leaving until we set down some ground rules," Marco said sternly, stopping them from mounting the horses. Even though they hadn't worked anything out yet. "You two," he started, pointing at Izo and Ace, "are going to give us back our money before we go anywhere."

"Your money," Thatch supplied helpfully, obviously taking none of Marco's words seriously.

"My money now," Ace added while crossing his arms.

"Ace, give him the money back," Izo said finally, earning yet another betrayed look. "What, you said you weren't planning on stealing it anyway."

Izo wasn't a fool, he could tell Ace was just refusing to do anything Marco told him to out of pure spite. That stubbornness was usually equal parts amusing and admirable, but it was preventing them from moving at the moment so the amusement factor was lost.

"Good," Marco said, looking slightly less annoyed. "Second, I'm leading the way to the nearest town that's on the route Thatch and I were originally going to take."

Izo nodded, seeing as they had absolutely no plan other than getting to the first bigger city where they could make some money and figure out what to do next. With Thatch and Marco on their side, there was no fear of starving even after they gave Marco's money back. This condition was a simple one and just thinking that made Izo realise that there was undoubtedly something more. Most likely something they wouldn't like.

"Lastly, I'm obviously riding my own horse," Marco said, and it was surprising to see him grin for the first time. "Izo can ride with Thatch, and Ace gets the pony."

Marco was still grinning, and what a sight that was, while Ace looked ready to commit murder. There was a surprising amount of that going around since they all met, someone should probably be worried about that.

"I am not riding a pony!" Ace shouted, quickly stepping forward and getting into Marco's still grinning face.

"You're welcome to walk," Marco replied calmly. “Or run behind us, for all I care. But you are taking care of the pony or we are taking our money and horses, and you two can figure something out.”

“We’re not leaving anyone behind,” Thatch said with an eyeroll.

“Shut up, Thatch.” Marco rolled his eyes as well. “These are my conditions, take it or leave it.”

“I can live with that,” Izo said, turning to Thatch for a moment. “So I hear I get to ride with you,” he added, waggling his eyebrows.

“Oh lord, will you two stop that?” Ace whined, momentarily forgetting about Marco’s conditions. “There are more important things to worry about!”

“Just ride the pony, Ace,” Izo told him. “You stole the wrong horse and now you’ll have to deal with the consequences.”

Ace narrowed his eyes at him, though, with something accusatory in his gaze. “I don’t like it when you make sense in someone else’s favour.” There was a pout on his lips, and Izo almost felt bad.

There was no time for that, though, because Marco seemed pleased with Izo's words and moved towards his horse, ready to get on the road. Thatch and Izo followed towards the horses with Ace grudgingly following behind.

"Don't worry, Ace, Rocky is very nice, you'll like him," Thatch said, most likely aiming for a reassuring tone, but Izo couldn't help but notice the underlying amusement.

"Rocky?" Marco snorted as he mounted his horse. "Why would you name a pony that?"

"Oh, did I not mention it before?" Thatch asked innocently as he settled in his saddle, offering his hand to help Izo up. "Those ponies are technically part earth elementals. He's made of rocks underneath all that glorious hair."

This seemed to make Marco freeze and stare at Thatch, even though Thatch wasn't looking at him at all.

"You've made me ride a literal pile of rocks?" he asked.

"Hey, he can hear you and he has feelings too," Ace piped up from where he stood next to Rocky, hand smoothing over his mane. "Don't you?" he cooed, petting the pony's head, and to Izo's absolute surprise, the pony seemed to enjoy the attention and didn't run away in fear at Ace touching him. Come to think of it, Marco's horse hadn't been scared of Ace either which was a surprise in itself, though perhaps not as much as this considering Marco was a knight and most likely came across more fearsome creatures than Ace.

It brought a smile to his face to see Ace close to an animal like this; he could remember so long ago when they'd first escaped the elves and discovered that animals couldn't stand being close to Ace. Izo had discovered just how sad that made Ace, too. Izo suspected Ace wouldn't be quite as displeased with riding a pony now that he knew the pony in question liked him. Of course, he wasn't expecting Ace to thank Marco either. 

"I cannot believe you," Marco grumbled, eyes boring into Ace and the pony. Izo wasn't sure whether that was meant for Ace, Thatch or the pony. "You're all insane, I'm riding ahead." With that he set off without waiting for anyone else. Izo didn't exactly blame him.

Despite their interactions so far, Ace swiftly mounted the pony and hurried behind Marco to ride next to him. Izo couldn't hear what was being said, or if anything was being said at all, but he knew Ace was set on antagonising Marco some more now that they were stuck together and Ace had nothing better to do apparently.

Izo just ignored the two of them as they rode a bit ahead, instead choosing to settle more comfortably in the saddle in front of Thatch. He wasn't surprised when Thatch's arm wound around his middle, pulling him back until he was leaning against Thatch's chest. The horse started moving slowly as Thatch rested his chin on Izo's shoulder.

"I think Marco likes Ace," Thatch said, and Izo could hear the smile in his voice. "I'm just not sure whether he's that oblivious or just doesn't want to admit it because Ace keeps pissing him off."

"Ace is pissing him off on purpose." Izo laughed, watching the two of them a short distance ahead, so obviously bickering about something even though Ace had to crane his neck to even look at Marco properly.

"Well, of course he is," Thatch said, laughing along. "It's pretty obvious unless you're Marco. He's too pissed to notice, though." Before Izo could say anything else, he felt lips on his neck, making him tilt his head to let Thatch kiss behind his ear as well.

"Thatch!" Marco yelled, making Thatch remove his lips from where they were pressed against Izo's neck. "Please focus."

Izo was sure it hadn't been longer than a mere minute, yet somehow they managed to get off course and the horse was now walking in a completely wrong direction while Marco and Ace stood a distance away. Ace looked absolutely amused, but Marco's expression was less cheerful and not for the first time, Izo wondered how he and Thatch even became friends even if Thatch told him the story of how exactly it was they met. There weren't many similarities between them that Izo noticed, especially with the violent tendencies Marco showed.

Well, that wasn't exactly true; Marco hadn't done anything violent per se, he just threatened Ace a lot. He would be able to make all of those threats come true most likely, but Izo was starting to doubt whether he'd even want to anymore.

"I am focusing," Thatch shouted back as they returned on track, his chin once again resting on Izo's shoulder. "He's so mean," he whispered when Marco turned around and continued moving, but Ace stood for a moment longer, snorting a laugh.

"Mean is a mild word to describe him, don't you think?" he asked before following after Marco.

Izo could almost feel the surprise Thatch was feeling. "Did he just... did he hear me?" Thatch asked, and Izo could see how wide his eyes were when he turned to look down at him.

"He can hear really well," Izo said carefully, not wanting to accidentally spill Ace's secret and make everything much worse. It was one thing to explain his mark to someone willing to listen because, in the end, the mark didn't show the truth about Izo. Ace's secret, though, was something entirely different and much more dangerous. Izo had come to like Thatch a lot, but it was far too early to know whether he could be trusted with the story of Ace's past and present as well. Not that it was Izo’s story to tell anyway.

He left it at that, offering no further explanation, and Thatch let him, staying silent as well, but doing nothing to remove his hand from Izo's waist or his chin from Izo's shoulder. It did something to reassure Izo, knowing Thatch wasn't pushing for more explanations even though he must have been curious. Izo didn't want to lie, surprisingly, but he knew he'd have to if anyone asked a direct question. Staying quiet for the rest of the ride seemed like a far better idea, and Thatch let him.

Together, they observed Marco and Ace in an amused silence, hearing nothing of what they were arguing about, save for the occasional shouted insult. Yet neither tried to put some distance between them and they kept riding almost next to each other. It looked absolutely ridiculous and highly entertaining, at least from where Izo was sitting. Ace was doing an admirable job at trying to push Marco into committing murder with nothing but the power of being annoying.

"I don't think I've seen that vein pop in Marco's forehead in at least a decade," Thatch spoke after what must have been hours since they left camp. "Whatever Ace is saying to him, it must be completely ridiculously stupid."

"Ace is good at that if he puts his mind to it," Izo said, smiling fondly. It was always amazingly amusing when Ace was winding someone else up. "Marco is holding up well, though. Usually people snap already."

"Oh, Marco is very patient. It's thanks to his training," Thatch said, pausing only for an amused snort before he continued, "and probably because he'd been living with me for so long."

"Are you saying you can be just as annoying as Ace?" Izo teased.

"No," Thatch laughed next to his ear as he spoke, "but I'd been alone for a long time before Marco came along. I was very eager about finally having company that wasn't trying to stab me if I turned my back."

It was Thatch's turn to grow silent, and Izo marvelled how sad that sounded. He still couldn't wrap his head around the fact Thatch had a story just as painful as Izo had. This wasn't something he wanted to have in common with others.

"That’s it!" Marco shouted, drawing Izo's attention. "We're making camp there for the night."

He was pointing at a spot by a lake just a small distance away from them. No one questioned the decision, though Ace looked painfully smug as he watched Marco ride away. Thatch turned to follow Marco, quietly chuckling as he undoubtedly noticed the look on Ace's face too.

Izo wasn't surprised at all that Marco set up their tent quickly before disappearing amongst the nearest trees and away from them. Well, from Ace most likely. With that, Ace was left to laugh to himself as he set up their own tent all by himself without a single complaint. Thatch followed behind Marco with a smirk after tying the horses near the water, leaving Ace and Izo alone in camp.

"What have you done to the poor man?" Izo asked when Thatch walked out of earshot.

Ace snorted loudly. "I wouldn't call  _ him _ poor in this scenario." 

"I'm pretty sure you drove him mad," Izo said with obvious amusement.

"You really think I succeeded already?" Ace asked, not bothering to hide the grin. "What about you and the puppy? Surprised to see he wore you down already."

"I told him," Izo said, lowering his voice. "About the mark." The look of absolute shock on Ace's face was almost enough to make him laugh.

"What did he say?" Ace asked, his full attention now on Izo.

"You were right, he didn't know what it meant before I told him," Izo said, reaching up to his neck to rub absentmindedly over the collar of his cloak. "He understands." He smiled, but he knew it didn't reach his eyes because he couldn't offer an explanation to Ace. Thatch's story was his own to speak of.

"I'm glad," Ace said instead of asking more. He understood better than anyone about secrets. "At least I won't have to maul him now," he added jokingly, making Izo laugh.

"He might need to maul you or something if you don't lay off Marco, though," Izo said, though he knew Thatch was endlessly amused by Ace as well.

Ace snorted at that, though. "Please, I'd believe it if he wasn't an actual puppy. I doubt he'd hurt a fly."

"Suit yourself," Izo said with a smile. "Come on, let's start a fire and see about making dinner. If we appease Marco with food, you might live through another night."

Ace did nothing more than laugh in reply as he walked to the tree line to pick up some firewood as he usually did, and all Izo could think was how nice it was to hear Ace laugh so freely.


	6. Chapter 6

As silently as possible, Ace slipped out of his sleeping bag. Izo had his back turned towards him and seemed to still be asleep. Ace put on his trousers and a shirt in afterthought. Usually, he wouldn’t have bothered with it, not if he was alone with Izo, but the tattoo on his back could raise some questions he didn’t want to answer. Marco didn’t seem to know runes, but Ace wasn’t so sure about Thatch. He looked over his shoulder once more to see if he hadn’t disturbed Izo. It seemed like he hadn’t, but as soon as he crept outside, he tripped over something and barely managed to bite back a curse. 

The thing turned out to be Marco, who was lying in front of the entrance of their tent, for what reason Ace didn’t know. Ace shot him a nasty look, though Marco didn’t seem to have woken up. Ace resisted the urge to kick him in the side and opted for sticking out his tongue, but as soon as he had scrambled to his feet and started to steal towards the river they were still following, a hand grabbed his ankle and almost cause Ace to trip again. Brusquely, Ace turned around. 

Marco was still lying in the same spot, but his eyes were open this time and his hand was wrapped around Ace’s ankle. “Where do you think you’re going?” he growled.

Ace pulled himself loose and looked at him darkly. “What are you, my babysitter? I’m just going for a piss and to wash myself. Or did you want to watch?” he added with a smirk. 

Marco shot him a deadly look and snorted. “No thanks.”

“What are you doing lying in front of our tent anyway?” Ace continued. “Afraid we’d pack up in the middle of the night? Or were you eavesdropping in case we were talking about you?” He grinned mischievously. 

Marco rose as well, his eyes narrowed in a fashion Ace was rapidly getting used to. He was still clad in armour, which Ace doubted was comfortable to sleep in, even if it wasn’t full armour. Marco was mostly clad in coat of mail, with a breastplate, shoulderplates and protection for his forearms and shins. “Thatch insist we need to protect you. I’m merely doing my job.”

Ace rolled his eyes. “You know we’ve survived long before you guys showed up. We don’t  _ need _ you.” A soft sound hit his ears, inaudible for most no doubt, but to Ace it sounded unmistakably like a canvas slipping open. At first, he assumed Izo had woken up, but when the canvas of their tent seemed undisturbed, he looked to the tent next to it. Thatch had crept out of it and was currently stealing towards the tent Izo was still lying in. When he was caught by Ace, he smiled sheepishly and placed his finger against his lips. 

“I’m as happy with it as you are, but…” Marco started, before he stopped talking and turned around to where Ace was looking. When he saw Thatch, he sighed tiredly. 

Leaving both of them to their own devices, Ace grabbed his bag that contained his shaving supplies and made his way to the lake. He took off his clothes again and waded into the water. For a moment, he wondered if Marco was ogling him from behind a tree, but he discarded the idea. It had become abundantly clear that he had ruined his chance with Marco by stealing his horse. Marco wasn’t the forgiving type. 

When they had met, Ace thought they hit it off pretty well. Even if both their goals had been to get the other into bed, the conversation they had had beforehand had been pleasant. Ace had noticed Marco was nice and smart. However, the Marco who had shown up now was the exact opposite - though not stupid. Ace had to admit he hadn’t exactly helped much by trying to rile him up. Izo claimed Ace had a bit of a temper, but Marco wasn’t much different - at least Ace could blame the dragon inside him. 

Additionally, Ace needed some entertainment while on the road. He couldn’t talk to Izo, because he was being disgustingly adorable with Thatch. Ace much rather argued with Marco then watch those lovebirds. He shuddered at the thought. 

It had surprised him a little how easily Izo had let himself be swept off his feet. He didn’t trust people easily, yet he had already confided in Thatch about his mark. For some reason, it made Ace slightly jealous, though why exactly, he wasn’t sure. Did he want to tell someone his secret as well? If so, whom? Marco was the first person to come to mind, but Ace rejected that idea immediately. Marco may never have been knighted, but Ace knew he wouldn’t hesitate to fight a dragon, even if it was Ace. He would have to, since in dragon form, Ace would see Marco only as a tasty snack. 

Ace decided his jealousy was merely aimed at the fact that Izo confided in Thatch so easily, while it had taken Ace a while to gain Izo’s trust, despite the fact that they had gone through a similar trauma. 

He finished washing and shaving himself, before hoisting himself out if the river. He hadn’t brought a towel, as the cold didn’t bother him, and he just pulled up his trousers and slipped on his shirt. Back in the camp, he saw Thatch and Izo practically sitting in each other’s laps while Thatch whispered something in Izo’s ear, and Izo actually  _ giggled _ . Ace had never heard him giggle before. 

Marco sat against a tree, as far from the couple as possible, sharpening his sword with brusque movements. When he saw Ace, those movements became even brusquer as he no doubt was imagining plunging the sharpened steel in his chest. He never took his eyes off Ace, anyway.

Ace, on the other hand, decided for once not to challenge Marco and instead walked over to the tent that was still standing upright. Without a word, he started breaking it down. 

“We’re in no hurry, Ace,” Izo said. “Come, sit with us and have breakfast.”

The corners of Ace’s mouth pulled down as he was inclined to snap back that Izo had seemed too busy to notice Ace, but since he was being the bigger man this morning anyway, he sat down next to Izo - and therefore Thatch. It had nothing to do with his grumbling stomach. 

Thatch was an excellent cook, it had turned out, and for that, Ace was grateful enough to forgive him for hogging Izo. Marco watched Ace eat with a look of disgust on his face. When Ace noticed, he made it a point to shove twice as much food in his mouth. Thatch, however, merely seemed surprised about his insatiable appetite. 

When they had broken up the camp, Ace jumped on Rocky and spurred him on, but the animal’s short legs meant Marco’s horse had soon enough caught up with him, prompting Marco to shoot him a triumphant smirk. Thatch and Izo followed behind him, since Thatch’s horse had to carry two people.

Ace shot Marco a dirty look and planted his heels in the flanks of his mount, mentally apologising as Rocky started to gallop. He would regret this later, as Marco hadn’t been kidding when he had said riding the pony had been like riding a pile of rocks, but he didn’t care for now. Behind him, he heard Marco spur on his horse as well, and soon enough, Marco had passed him. Putting on a determined face, Ace made his pony go faster, as fast as the short legs could go. Ace sat bent over as low as possible, but Marco’s horse had longer legs and it didn’t cost the animal any effort to keep up with Ace. However, Ace noted that Marco purposely kept up with him instead of passing him. Ace shot him a glare and leaned further forward in the saddle, whispering encouraging words in Rocky’s ear. The pony sped up a little more, but Ace could feel the animal was exhausted. It wasn’t made for galloping. 

Ace decided to admit defeat, albeit reluctantly, and pulled the reigns. Rocky came to a halt. Marco noticed he had stopped and slowed down as well, a triumphant and rather infuriating smirk on his face. Ace huffed and looked over his shoulder where they had come from. Izo and Thatch were far behind. They hadn’t seemed to make any effort to keep up with Marco and Ace, no doubt already tired of their bickering. Plus, it would give them some time alone. Ace wondered for a moment if it was possible to have sex on a horse. If it was, Ace didn’t doubt they were doing that. 

Marco followed his gaze, and his raised eyebrow told Ace he was thinking something similar. He scratched the back of his head and cleared his throat. “Do you want to wait for them?” he asked awkwardly. 

Ace made a face as he remembered how those two had been sucking each other’s faces the whole morning. “You know what? We’re still following the river. They’ll find their way.”

Marco didn’t need more encouragement and turned his horse back to their original direction. 

They rode next to each other in silence for a while, when Ace asked, “How long till the next town?”

Marco folded out a map and slowed his horse to show Ace. “We’re about here,” he pointed somewhere on the map, “and Sabaody is here.” His finger slid across the parchment to a small dot on the map. “If we hurry, we could be there by nightfall.”

Ace was studying the map interest, and it took him long to realise how close they were right now. Marco either hadn’t noticed or didn’t care.

With an awkward cough, Ace steered his pony away from Marco and said, “That’s good, then Izo and I can still do a show today.”

“Yeah? You can do a show with a sore ass?” Marco asked, amused. 

“Oh please. I have buns of steel.” Ace wiggled his ass to emphasise. “You just have a sensitive behind that can’t handle a pony.”

“A pile of rocks,” Marco protested. 

Ace started to laugh. “You’re such a wuss. I bet you didn’t pass the knight test because you were saddlesore!”

Something akin to sadness flashed in Marco’s eyes that told Ace he was dead wrong - not that he had expected to be right - but Ace took pity on him and changed the subject. “So, Thatch implied he had seen our show when we performed with our troupe the last time.” He couldn’t remember the name of the town, but it would probably be best not to call it ‘the place where I stole your horse’, not to remind Marco and tempt him into trying to murder Ace again. “Have you seen it too?” he asked.

“I was busy,” Marco replied curtly. 

“Well, you’re in for a treat,” Ace continued cheerfully like he hadn’t noticed Marco’s tone. “I mean, I know it’s not what you had in mind when you asked for a private show, but it’s still impressive.” He was delighted to see a slight flush tinting Marco’s cheeks when he was reminded of their dalliance. 

“So why did you become an artist?” Marco asked, probably to hide his embarrassment. 

It was Ace’s turn to be taken aback. He could hardly tell Marco that it was because people instinctively distrusted him and that chances were that if he settled down, especially without Izo, that he would transform into a dragon at some point and eat his fellow villagers. Instead, he replied, “I like the freedom.” It wasn’t a lie. 

Marco didn’t press the matter, and they rode further in silence until Marco suggested to have lunch. Unfortunately, Thatch was the one with the food in his saddlebags, and he was still far behind. Marco loosened the girths of the mounts before he made himself comfortable - or as comfortable as possible, as he was still wearing his armour - on the ground. Ace sat across from him, and both kept silent. 

It was Ace’s stomach that broke the silence. It growled loudly, and Ace grabbed at it embarrassedly as if that would help. He hadn’t expected Marco to chuckle and throw him an apple that he had apparently in his bag. Feeling a little guilty about stealing Marco’s food, even if Thatch would be there soon enough, Ace grabbed a knife and cut the apple in half, handing one piece to Marco who took it a little surprised. 

“Thank you for the food,” Ace said, bowing his head, which only added to Marco’s confusion. “So, the sleeping outside, that’s only to protect us?” Ace inquired after he had devoured the apple, even if Marco had barely taken a bite. 

Marco seemed to consider his question before replying. “I prefer to sleep outside if the weather allows it. Thatch tends to snore and spout nonsense in his sleep.”

Despite himself, Ace snorted. “I feel you. When we were still with our troupe, we had several people like that. With Izo, I don’t have that problem. He only snores when he’s drunk, which doesn’t happen often. Though,” he hastily added, “don’t tell him I told you that. He’ll kill me.” He realised the irony of his statement, seeing that Marco had tried to kill him only yesterday and thought of doing it even this morning. 

“My lips are sealed,” Marco replied and took a draught from the waterskin. 

Ace placed his hands behind him in the grass, but had forgotten he had thrown the knife he used to cut the apple there, cutting his hand. He cursed loudly. 

Marco put the cork back on the waterskin and placed it next to him before beckoning Ace over. Reluctantly, Ace rose and sat down next to him. Marco took his hand without a word and looked at the wound. Seemingly deciding it didn’t need to be washed since it was bleeding a lot, he placed his fingers over Ace’s open palm and let the blue flames do its work. Again, Ace stared at them in fascination. He didn’t think he would ever grow tired of watching those. However, they disappeared too soon, causing Ace to consider inflicting a larger wound upon himself, just so he could watch them longer. 

When the wound was healed, Marco handed Ace the waterskin to wash the blood off. Ace poured some on his hand, but with the skin in one hand, he couldn’t properly wash his hand. He was about to put down the waterskin, when surprisingly soft hands started to gently rub his skin. His eyes widened slightly, Ace looked up, but Marco was merely concentrated on washing the blood off his hand. 

The sound of hooves pounding on the ground came closer, and Ace hastened himself to sit across from Marco in his previous spot before Thatch’s cheery voice greeted them. If Marco thought Ace’s behaviour was weird, he didn’t comment on it.

“You guys were in a hurry,” Thatch said cheerfully as he dismounted and held out his hand to help Izo. 

Marco and Ace exchanged a look, but both just shrugged. 

“Well, it’s good you stopped, as I was getting hungry anyway,” Thatch continued in the same tone. In the short period they were together, Ace had noted that Thatch was pretty much always cheerful. It was very hard to dislike him. 

Ace had noted that Izo’s eyes were aimed at him from the moment he and Thatch arrived, and it didn’t take long before Izo grabbed his hand and took him aside while Thatch started to unpack the food. 

“Did I just see a moment between you and Marco?” he asked, obviously amused.

Ace considered feigning he was hungry, as Izo knew he had to eat as soon as possible if he was, but Marco’s apple had helped a bit, and unfortunately, Izo knew him well enough to know when he was faking. “No,” he replied curtly. “He just healed my hand when I accidentally cut it.”

It was clear from Izo’s face that he wasn’t satisfied with that answer, so Ace wasn’t surprised when he pressed the matter. “Come on,” he said in an uncharacteristically whiny voice. “You have to like  _ something _ about him. You told me you almost slept with him.”

“I was just trying to kill some time while you were upstairs banging Thatch,” Ace replied with a huff.

Izo looked at him as if he had never heard something so vulgar. 

“Besides,” Ace continued, “if you hadn’t punched Thatch in the face, I would have had time to actually have sex with Marco, and then he might not want to kill me now. So if you think about it, it’s all your fault,” he finished triumphantly. 

Izo looked insulted for a moment, but then said, “You would have stolen his horse regardless. I think that’s what he’s the most upset about. So maybe if you apologise for taking his mount - and his trousers - instead of adding fuel to the flames, so to speak, the journey might become more pleasant for everyone.” He crossed his arms before his chest. 

Ace opened and closed his mouth. He hated it when Izo was right - which unfortunately happened a lot - and he hated it even more when when he made sense in someone else’s favour. Especially Marco’s. 

Finally, he sighed. “You know, even if I would apologise, and I’m not saying I should, then I still doubt it would make a difference. Marco doesn’t forgive as easily as Thatch does. I mean, you punched him in the face and still the first thing he does is wag his tail at you.”

“He’s not actually a dog!” Izo snapped indignantly.

Ace shrugged. “Whatever. Fact is, just because you’re in love, doesn’t mean I should be too. Besides, you told Thatch your secret and he accepts you anyway. The moment I’d tell Marco mine, he would save himself the trouble and thrust his sword into my heart. I can’t blame him, it’s his job to kill monsters, after all.”

For once, Izo didn’t seem to know how to respond, and Ace took that opportunity to turn back to Thatch and Marco. He was handed some food and immediately scarfed it down. Thatch could barely pull his hand back in time. They ate in relative silence, though Thatch still happily babbled on about things. From what Ace had understood, Thatch had locked himself up in his castle for a long time, so pretty much anything about the outside world was interesting - and Izo most of all, of course. 

Ace had never seen Izo smiled this much, and he felt another jab of jealousy. He relied completely on Izo and his willingness to travel together. What if Izo decided to go home with Thatch, leaving Ace to fend for himself? Or rather, the poor innocent people he would torment to fend for themselves. Ace shook his head. Izo would never want to have innocent deaths on his conscience. If he decided to go with Thatch, Ace would be forced to go with them. As much as he liked Thatch, he didn’t like being the third wheel. Besides, being with Thatch probably would also meant being with Marco. Now that Ace knew Marco was a hero-for-hire, he was even less inclined to share his secret, but the more time they spent together, the higher the chance that Ace’s necklace broke or the spell wore off and he would transform. If that happened, either he or Marco wouldn’t live to tell the tale. Izo’s romantic notion that he should start something with Marco was probably the worst idea ever. It would be like a fox falling in love with a hunter. 

Ace noticed Marco looking at him, and he wondered if he had been staring. He focused back on his food, though he had partly lost his appetite for some reason. He still forced himself to eat. He didn’t feel like fainting, especially not when Marco was there. 

After lunch, Ace approached his pony to tighten the girth again, but Thatch’s horse started neighing and bucking when he came near it, while Marco’s horse and Rocky didn’t stop grazing. Marco was immediately at his side to calm the animal, but he did cast a strange look at Ace, who just shrugged. It wasn’t like he did it on purpose. While Marco was holding Thatch’s horse, Ace untied his pony and led it away from the horses. Thatch’s horse calmed down once he was out of reach. 

Ace didn’t know if Marco sensed his mood, but he let Ace walk ahead and left him be. 

The town they were aiming for, Sabaody, came into sight when the sun was about to set. They had a quick dinner outside of the city walls so that Ace and Izo could prepare for their performance. Thatch seemed to be even more excited than either Izo or Ace was about seeing Izo perform again. Izo hardly needed more stroking of his ego, but he appeared to be happy, so Ace left it alone.

Thatch and Marco took it upon themselves to stable the horses somewhere, since Ace and Izo had to prepare themselves for the show. Izo changed into his performance attire so he would draw attention just by walking around, while Ace tried to gather people around by announcing their performance. Of course, without a troupe, there were less people interested in them, but eventually they had gathered a small group of people, which included Thatch and Marco. Marco looked like he would rather be fighting some kind of monster than be here, but apparently, he couldn’t refuse Thatch, who was shaking at his shoulder excitedly and saying things Ace couldn’t discern with all the other chatter, but he didn’t doubt they were about Izo. 

It was starting to get dark, but there was enough light for Ace to start the show with some juggling. However, the townsfolk had seen travelling performers before, so they soon started to call for more interesting tricks. Thatch, however, was applauding and cheering at everything Ace did, and he was elbowing Marco to do the same. Marco just rolled his eyes, but Ace knew it was aimed at Thatch rather than himself. 

Ace exchanged his balls with burning torches now that it had become dark enough. The audience’s attention was pulled back at him, and slowly, more people gathered around them. It would be worth their while when Izo’s performance started, Ace thought, and he doubled his efforts to make it interesting. He balanced a burning torch on his nose, and afterwards, he continued with breathing fire. All the while, he kept paying attention to Marco. Marco was ignoring Thatch’s elbowing and babbling, and was looking at Ace with a certain intensity that Ace couldn’t place. Ace held his gaze as he put the torch out with his mouth. He only realised later that it might have looked suggestive. 

Suddenly, an idea struck him, and he beckoned Izo, who had put his cloak over his performance clothes not to steal Ace’s attention. 

“I want to try something new, is that okay?” Ace whispered. 

Izo’s lips formed into a smile, and he gave a quick nod before going around the audience with a hat he had dug up somewhere to gather the first money. Bronze and even a few silver coins fell into the hat, and Ace was pleased - though not surprised - to see that Thatch threw in a handful of coins, much to Marco annoyance, and after Izo said something to him, he threw in even more with a large gesture and loudly complimenting Ace - no doubt a way to open more wallets. 

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Ace said loudly to draw the attention back to him, “for my next trick, I need a volunteer.” He could see Izo smile before he disappeared into the shadows with the money. 

Several hands were raised in the audience, and Thatch even jumped up and down with his hand into the air, shouting, “Pick me!” 

“Just pick him before he strains himself,” Ace heard Izo mutter. 

With a smile, Ace let his eyes glide over the audience, before they rested on Marco, and his smile became a smirk. Marco must have noticed because he almost invisibly shook his head. That only encouraged Ace. 

“How about you, sir?” he said cheerfully as if it was the first time he saw Marco. “A gallant knight like yourself can’t be afraid of a little fire?”

Thatch, who had looked a little deflated when he wasn’t picked and had been pouting, perked up when Marco was chosen and elbowed him encouragingly. 

Marco’s glare should be enough to have even giants run for the hills, but Ace wasn’t about to back down. 

“Looks like he’s a little shy, folks,” he said with a smirk. “Maybe he needs some encouragement?”

The audience started to applaud and shout encouragements, and Thatch even went as far as to push Marco forward. Finally, Marco moved reluctantly to the open spot on the square. 

“You know I’ll strangle you in your sleep tonight, right?” he whispered when he passed Ace.

“Duly noted,” he replied. It would be worth it. 

Ace turned back to the audience, his arms spread in an inviting gesture. “Ladies and gentlemen, an applause please for my  _ lovely  _ assistant.” He had expected the glare from Marco, but the audience started clapping and Thatch even whistled through his fingers. Marco’s eye twitched in annoyance, and he crossed his arms before his chest. 

Ace just smirked and threw off his tunic, standing half naked in front of the group of people. He bent down and handed Marco the flask he used for his fire breathing trick. “If you’d be so kind to douse me in this.”

Marco looked confused at the flask for a moment, before a smirk appeared on his face and he threw some of the content in Ace’s face. Ace sputtered and wiped the booze out if his eyes, shooting Marco a glare, but the audience loved it. Loud laughter and applause arose. Marco made a small bow. 

“If you’ll  _ douse _ me in it,” Ace repeated sharply. He huffed, but Marco did as he asked this time, pouring the content over his head, torso and spread out arms. “Please pick up the torch.” Ace pointed to the torch that was standing in a special holder. Marco did as he was asked again. 

Ace smirked. “Now if you’ll please  _ light me on fire _ .”

Marco froze, and the audience gasped. “You’re kidding, right?” Marco said softly. 

Ace just grinned. “I think my assistant has cold feet. How about a little more encouragement?”

The audience started to applaud again, more hesitant this time. Fortunately, Izo was still there to encourage them, as he was the only one present who knew fire couldn’t hurt Ace. Fire can’t kill a dragon, after all. Izo started to applaud hardest of all, quickly followed by the others. He also gave an encouraging nod to Marco, who was still looking hesitant with the torch in his hand. 

“If you’re sure,” Marco muttered and touched Ace with the burning torch for the briefest of moments. However, since the liquor Ace used had a very high alcohol content, it started to burn right away. 

Ace let out an agonising scream, just to mess with his audience and Marco, before he showed that he wasn’t hurt, even if he was still on fire. After all, he didn’t want anyone to ruin the trick by extinguishing the flames. He turned around in front of the audience before holding out his hand to Marco. Hesitantly, Marco took it, but immediately pulled back because of the heat. Ace laughed and danced around a bit - though not nearly as graciously as Izo would in a bit.

Thatch was the first who started to applaud and cheer, soon followed by the others. Ace looked over his shoulder and saw that even Marco looked impressed. Slowly, the flames died out, and Ace took a bow and put on his tunic again, flashing Marco a smile. He was handed the hat by Izo and went around. People were definitely more generous this time. Ace took another bow and moved aside to let Izo work his magic. He passed Marco when he went to retrieve his flute as Marco made his way back to Thatch. There was something in Marco’s eyes that Ace couldn’t place, but he figured he wouldn’t be strangled in his sleep tonight after all. 

He started to play the flute, slowly as they practiced, and Izo started his routine. While all eyes were glued to his movements, especially Thatch’s, Ace felt someone looking at  _ him _ instead. When he searched the audience, however, he found it was Marco who was staring at him. Ace started to feel a little nervous. Surely Izo was much more interesting to look at? Especially since Marco had never seen his routine before. Ace was just playing the flute. Would Marco still be considering murdering Ace? Was he thinking of creative ways to get rid of the body?

Still, he managed to speed his pace up as practiced, though he did resolve to start running as soon as Izo was done dancing. However, as Izo took a bow, Ace remembered now was the time to cash in and went around with the hat again. Thatch made a show of emptying his money pouch in the hat, though somehow, Ace doubted it was upon Izo’s request, judging by the lovestruck look on Thatch’s face. Ace made it a point not to look at Marco, skipping him as he went around. 

The audience started to clear off soon after the show was over. Ace started counting the money, too pleased by their profit to remember to flee. He expected Izo to join him, but when he looked up, he saw it was Marco standing next to him. Ace’s mind flashed to an image of his body chopped into pieces, and he was about to make a run for it, but something in the look in Marco’s eyes made him freeze. 

“Your trick,” Marco started, almost hesitantly, “where you set yourself on fire, it was very impressive. I won’t ask you how you did it, because you wouldn’t tell me, but…” He trailed off, obviously not sure how to continue.

Ace shrugged. “It was nothing. Really, if you’d watched Izo’s performance, you’d be way more impressed with him than with me. Which is why he is the big finale and I’m just the opening act.”

Marco opened his mouth, but no sound came out, and he scratched the back of his head. “You… noticed I wasn’t watching Izo?” he asked carefully. 

Ace shrugged again. “Obviously, you found it more important to think of ways to kill me. You missed out, though. Honestly, I can’t blame Thatch for falling head over heels for Izo after seeing his show. I’m sure you’d do too if you you’d bothered to pay attention.”

“Then why would I risk it?” Marco asked. There was something in his voice, almost husky, that made Ace look up. 

“Well,” it was his turn to scratch behind his ear awkwardly, “I guess you shouldn’t. I mean, I highly doubt you’d try anything, seeing how much you respect Thatch. Not that Izo would be interested anyway. Not that I’m saying you’re not attractive,” he hastened himself to add. “I just mean… Where are those two, anyway?” he interrupted himself to change the subject. 

Marco followed his glance, but the square they had performed on was pretty much empty aside from some passersby. Thatch and Izo were nowhere to be seen, and their things had disappeared as well. 

“That’s just great,” Ace sighed. “Now we have to go look for them.” He bent down to pick up his things and made to leave, turning around when Marco didn’t follow him. “Are you coming?”

“Are you sure you want to do that?” When Ace looked at him questioningly, he continued, “Seeing how they’ve been making out like horny teenagers, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what they’re up to. Besides, I know for a fact that Thatch hasn’t gotten any in a long time.”

Clearly, he believed as much as Ace did that Thatch and Izo actually had had sex in the woods the day before. “Just like someone else we know,” Ace said with a grin. “It’s a miracle you two haven’t hooked up before.”

Marco coughed, a blush staining his cheeks. 

Ace’s eyes widened. “You have?” he called out amusedly.

“No. Almost. Once. It doesn’t matter,” Marco hastened himself to say. “Anyway, I doubt they’d want to be disturbed right now.”

Ace sighed. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” He sat down on the edge of the fountain in the middle of the square and rubbed his face. 

“Are you okay?” Marco asked frowning as he sat down next to Ace. 

“Yeah, this is just a reminder that I need him more than he needs me,” Ace said monotonously. 

“I’m sure that is not true.”

Ace let out a humourless laugh. “Oh, but it is. Frankly, I wonder why he has stuck with me as long as he has. I only remind him of less pleasant times. Well, maybe just out of sense of duty, I guess.”

“Duty?” Marco asked confusedly. 

Ace waved with his hand, trying to laugh it off. “Nevermind, i’m just whining.” He should be more careful about what he said. They were on dangerous ground, and it would be all too easy to let Ace’s secret slip. 

Marco decided to change the subject, unbeknownst to him that he was actually questioning Ace along the same line. “The runes tattooed on your back, are those for protection as well? I didn’t recognise them.”

Ace’s mouth pulled into a thin line. Those runes were a reminder of his time as a human guinea pig, and he was glad they were on his back, so he couldn’t see them. He was careful not to walk around shirtless too often, though, as not to remind Izo of where they had been. It was hard, because he used to almost never wear a shirt, and he loved the feeling of freedom that it brought. Izo’s feelings were more important, though. He had forgotten about it for a bit tonight, and he couldn’t help but wonder if Izo had seen it. If he had, though, at least he had Thatch to distract him. “Not exactly. Though, don’t feel bad you don’t recognise them. Most people don’t.” Most people didn’t, not in there parts anyway, so he wasn’t afraid to show it. He doubted anyone aside from Marco had noticed the mark, as they had been too busy looking at the fact that he was on fire. 

Marco didn’t press the matter, and they sat in silence for a while. Ace realised Marco was trying to be civil and attempted to start a conversation, though whether it was because Thatch asked him or because he felt sorry for Ace, Ace didn’t know. Marco just sucked at picking subjects, it seemed, so Ace decided he should make an effort himself. It was just really hard to think of a subject. “So, what do you want to do now?”

Marco shrugged. “Sit here?” He reached down and pulled a bottle of what appeared to be rum from his bag. He took a swig from it before offering it to Ace. 

Ace took a drink and accidentally kicked against the hat full of money that was standing next to him on the ground. “At least we made plenty of money,” he said, trying to sound cheerfully as he placed the hat in his lap and started to count it. 

“You know about half of that is what Thatch threw in there, upon Izo’s request,” Marco said, a hint of a smirk on his face.

Ace huffed. “It’s not my fault he’s lovestruck.” Then he sighed. “You’re gonna make me give it back again, aren’t you?”

Marco thought for a moment and then shrugged. “As long as we travel together, it doesn’t matter who has the money, does it?” 

Ace playfully knocked his shoulder against Marco’s. “So we’re stuck together for a while.”

“You said it yourself, with Thatch lovestruck and Izo making no complaints.” Marco sighed dramatically. “I’m afraid so.” 

“It could be worse, right?” With a grin, Ace handed to bottle back to him. 

Marco looked at him, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “I suppose so.”

They were silent for a moment, passing the bottle to and fro, when Marco suddenly started to speak. 

“About what you just said right now, about you needing Izo more than the other way around… I know I only know you for like three days, but Izo doesn’t seem like the type to put up with anything he doesn’t care for. So the fact that he is staying with you must mean he loves you dearly.”

Ace kept silent for a while, emptying the bottle. Despite the fact that it had been full minutes before, neither of them appeared to be drunk. For Ace, it was thanks to his curse that his alcohol tolerance was through the roof - who had ever heard of a drunk dragon, anyway? Marco just seemed to be able to hold his liquor. 

Finally, Ace said, “I know he does.” Izo had told him many times that it was only because of Ace’s smile and chatter that he was able to stay sane when they had been captured. Ace liked to believe him. 

“How did you two meet, anyway?” Marco asked. “You don’t seem like a typical pair.”

Ace let out a laugh despite everything. “I’ll say.” Then his face became serious again. “We didn’t meet under the happiest of circumstances, in prison, and we’ve stayed together ever since.” It was all he could manage to say about the subject. Despite the years that had passed, the trauma had never gone away. It still influenced their lives to this day, after all. Izo was branded as a necromancer, and Ace had become a monster. Marco knew none of that, though, and Ace preferred to keep it that way. He decided to change the subject. “So what about you and Thatch? If Izo and I are ‘not typical’, you two are plain odd together.”

“I was sent to kill him.”

Ace let out a snort at the deadpanned reply. “I’m starting to question your ability to kill people. I mean, I’m still here, and Thatch obviously is too.”

Maroc shrugged. “He offered me more money than the person I was working for. And once you’ve given in, it’s impossible to get rid of Thatch.”

“Right.” From what Ace had seen of those two, it was obviously that they cared about each other, Marco more than he was willing to admit. Thatch had less problems with that. “Why did they want him dead anyway?” he asked. “Thatch doesn’t seem like the type to anger someone.”

“People thought he was a monster,” Marco replied.

Ace burst out into laughter and he had trouble staying seated. “Thatch?!” he managed to bring out between wheezing. “Thatch, a monster? He’s a… He’s a puppy!”

Marco seemed to be amused as well, though it appeared to be more because Ace was doubled up. Ace leaned with his head on Marco’s knee when he was trying to catch his breath, the steel of Marco’s armour cold against his skin. He noticed Marco’s hand caressing his hair for a second and straightened again. 

“I didn’t see that coming,” he finally said, still panting slightly, and he wiped the tears from his eyes. He suddenly noticed Marco looking at him, smiling, and his cheeks flushed slightly. Hastily, he focused on something else. He grabbed a handful of coins from the hat and jumped up. “I’ll go get more booze!” he called over his shoulder as he started to run in a random direction. There were bound to be bars everywhere. 

The way Marco was looking at him was definitely not the look of someone planning a murder. Maybe Ace had misinterpreted the fact that Marco had been looking at him during the show. Maybe he had given up his plans to help Ace into an early grave and - dare he think it - started  _ liking _ Ace? It was a strange notion. Sure, Ace knew Izo liked him, but that was definitely in another way. Ace had almost slept with Marco, but he had done that with a lot of people throughout the years. It had never been more than a one night stand, though. He had never felt this… spark. 

Maybe he could indulge himself a little?

Ace hastened to buy several bottles of booze of various kinds, as he didn’t know what Marco liked. When he returned to the fountain, Marco seemed almost surprised.

“I figured you’d have taken my horse again and was halfway to the next town already,” he said. 

Ace wasn’t sure if he was joking or not. “I wouldn’t have left my stuff if I had.” He gestured to his props and the money that was still in the hat. “Or Izo,” he added. 

Marco smiled and patted invitingly beside him. Ace took a seat again, lining the bottles up in front of them. Marco studied the labels and picked one, offering it to Ace again after a sip. Ace eyed the other bottles, but still took the one Marco held out. 

“I guess I never formally apologised for stealing your horse,” he said. 

“I can’t recall you doing it informally either,” Marco said amusedly. 

“I’m doing it now,” Ace snapped. Then he sighed and turned to Marco, bowing his head. “I’m sorry for stealing your horse. And your trousers. We needed a mount, and as you saw, animals generally don’t like me. Your horse wasn’t afraid of me, so I took it. As for your trousers, I was aiming for my sash, but apparently grabbed your trousers instead. The money was just a bonus.”

Marco had been quiet while Ace was talking, but his lips were formed in an amused smirk. “I figured it was something like that.” He leaned forward and fetched a red cloth from his luggage. 

Ace’s eyes widened in surprise. “My sash! You took it with you!”

“I was planning on strangling the thief with it,” Marco said earnestly. 

Ace leaned in. “I thought you were gonna wait till I was asleep,” he said in a low voice. 

Marco took a slow sip, his lips pressed against the opening of the bottle. “Maybe I changed my mind.”

“To what?” Ace asked in the same tone.

“To whatever the night will bring me.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Ace said and picked up a bottle to chime against Marco’s. They sat like that for some time, talking and drinking. Marco seemed as sober as he was when he started, which was a good thing, because Ace was too. Finally, Ace asked, “Where did you put the horses, by the way?”

“We brought them to a stable at the edge of town. Are you worried about Rocky?” Marco asked teasingly.

“What? I like that pony,” Ace huffed, before his face fell a little. “He’s not scared of me.”

“He’s safe, don’t worry.”

Ace nodded. “Do you want to go look for an inn?” He rose when Marco agreed and packed his things together. His sash he had tied around his waist. 

Fortunately, the innkeeper was still up when they arrived and had a room free. Ace wondered briefly if this was the same inn as Thatch and Izo stayed in as he followed Marco up the stairs. He had forgotten to ask if there were more in town. Shrugging, he decided he would see in the morning. 

Marco opened the door with the roomkey they’d received and let Ace pass. The room was nothing much, but it would do. There were two beds, and Ace wondered if they would both be used tonight. His eyes were drawn to Marco, who started to take off his armour. 

“Do you need help with that?” he asked.

Marco turned around. “I don’t  _ need _ it, but if you’re offering, who am I to decline?”

With a grin, Ace walked up to him and kneeled down to unfasten his greaves. He heard Marco’s breath hitch and looked up. Marco was looking down at him, his blue eyes piercing into Ace’s gold ones. Without breaking eye contact, Ace started to take off the armour, which wasn’t an easy feat because he had never done it before. 

Piece by piece, the armour was placed on the ground, and Ace slowly rose to his feet. Marco was clad in white padded trousers and shirt that he wore underneath the steel. The tension between them was so thick it could be cut with a knife. 

“You know what’s unfair?” Marco’s voice sounded a little breathless. “You’ve seen me naked, but I’ve never seen you without clothes.”

“That  _ is  _ unfair,” Ace said without taking his eyes off Marco. Slowly, he started to untie his sash. “We’d better right that wrong.” He undressed slowly, well aware of the eyes that took him in. Once he was standing fully naked in the room, Marco pulled his shirt over his head and let his trousers drop to the floor.

Without breaking eye contact, Ace walked backwards to one of the bed, followed by Marco. Ace sat down. Marco placed his knee next to him, before he finally leaned in and kissed Ace. 

Pulling him with him as he lay down, all coherent thoughts disappeared from Ace’s mind.

* * *

Ace woke up with a warm body next to him and he had to smile. Last night had gone nothing like he had initially thought - or rather, feared. Instead of running for his life, he had finally slept with Marco. 

Soft kisses were placed on his shoulder, and he turned around, wrapping his arms around Marco as he kissed him. 

“If you’re up for it, I wouldn’t mind going another time,” Marco said with a smirk. 

Ace let out a laugh. “Of course you would. But I need to eat something first.” It was his stomach that had woken him, and he didn’t feel like fainting. He managed to untangle himself from Marco and the sheets, rolling out of bed as he looked for his clothes. 

Marco watched him as he pulled up his trousers, but then got up with a sigh as well. “Alright, breakfast first.” He leaned in to kiss Ace again. His hand caressed Ace’s cheek before it moved to his neck to hold him close, but caught in Ace’s necklace. The small pull was enough to break the string holding the large red beads together. Frozen, Ace looked at the beads that rolled everywhere. 

Marco looked dismayed down as well. “I’m sorry I broke your heirloom,” he said. 

Panic rose, and Ace looked at his arms. There was no sign of his transformation yet, but it wouldn’t take long before it started. Marco couldn’t see him like this. Where was Izo?!

Ace turned around and stormed out of the room. 

“Wait Ace, I’m sure I can fix it!” Marco called after him, but Ace barely heard him.

“Izo!” he called, panicking as he ran down the hall. “Izo!” Several doors opened to see where the ruckus was coming from, but in none of the door openings Ace could see Izo. “Izo!” he yelled again.

If he couldn’t find Izo, there was no stopping the transformation. Seeing he hadn’t eaten yet, his dragon self would be hungry as well, and he was currently in a town full of snacks in human form. He needed to get away as far away as possible and pray Izo would intervene before he started devouring everything in his way. 

Barefoot, Ace ran over the cobbles of the road, still calling Izo’s name. Usually, Izo would be with him, would transform him back before he had fully turned into a dragon. Ace looked at his arms and already saw black scales appear. 

His mind flashed back to last night. Marco had been lying next to him and had promised him that he would never try to kill him again. It had been a joke, of course, but grimly, Ace thought Marco wouldn’t be able to hold his promise. He would no doubt try to fight Ace, and Ace didn’t think both of them would come out of that fight alive. 

“Izo!”

He ran as fast as he could to the edge of town. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want to be a monster. He didn’t want Marco to find out what he really was. 

Pain ran through his body as a tail started to grow, tearing his trousers. Ace ran further, almost tripping. His hands formed into claws.

He had reached the edge of the town, but there was no stopping the transformation. Ace fell to his knees as pain rocked his body again, two wings sprouting from his shoulderblades. Panting, he clawed at the grassy ground as his face started to transform as well. 

Where the hell was Izo?!


	7. Chapter 7

Izo woke with Thatch's arms wrapped tightly around him and loud snoring interrupted by incomprehensible mumbling in his ear. He wasn't entirely certain whether he should be annoyed at the way he was woken up or happy because of who was in bed with him. What he'd settled on was something in between, though there was no doubt about the fondness with which he turned to look at Thatch. The snoring turned to soft exhales, but the mumbling didn't cease, and Izo could barely hold in the laughter at the nonsense Thatch was spouting in his sleep.

It had been ages since he woke up next to someone who wasn't Ace, even if the cuddling was unavoidable when sleeping next to him. If nothing else, that alone gave them a semblance of privacy whenever they'd travel with a troupe; no one wanted to wake up with Ace wrapped around them other than Izo. It was like having a personal heater in winter.

Thatch stirred, his grip around Izo tightening a fraction before he settled down again, clearly nowhere near waking. It was somewhat earlier than the usual time Izo woke, but he couldn't go back to sleep now that he was awake and well rested. Sleeping on an actual bed did wonders for him.

The city was already bustling with life outside, the sounds of people passing by reaching him through the window. There must have been a market nearby and just the thought of fresh food made Izo's stomach rumble in a surprisingly violent way, but Thatch still hadn't shown any signs of waking up. Izo wasn't inclined to wake him anyway, not with the way he looked while sleeping.

With a great deal of care, Izo managed to untangle himself from Thatch's grip without waking him before watching with amusement as Thatch whined as he curled around Izo's pillow in a similar way he'd been curled around Izo himself. It was ridiculous and sweet, and Izo couldn't remember a time someone had shown this much affection for him, Ace notwithstanding. There was a lot of effort needed to step away from the bed and get dressed, after rummaging through the room to find his pair of trousers and a shirt. He had to settle for Thatch's shirt as he was unable to find his own at the moment, knowing that finding it was probably impossible with the way Thatch had thrown it somewhere the night before.

By the time Izo was buttoning up the collar of his cloak, Thatch was snoring again. Izo leaned down to press his lips against Thatch's forehead, gently enough not to wake him before checking his cloak. It'd been a long time since he used any of the small hex bags sewn into the fabric of his cloak, but he couldn't help but check whether they were all still there whenever he venture amongst people. Just knowing everything was there in case he needed protection was enough to assure him that he was safe and nothing would go wrong because he can protect himself.

Quietly, he left the room, gold coins in his pocket making a low chiming sound as he walked. He walked through the inn and out into the street, mingling amongst the people walking by on business of their own. No one paid much attention to him, not in a city of this size with this many residents. Finally being in a place where he didn't stand out was absolutely freeing. Even though he loved the attention he'd get while performing, Izo was still apprehensive whenever he found himself sticking out in a crowd. Whenever there were too many eyes on him, there was a danger that someone might notice that his illusions weren't just a trick of the light.

Realistically, Izo knew that the magic used in his performance was harmless and that there was no viable way of people knowing what he was capable of. After all, he wasn't entirely certain of that either. But he couldn't shake the worry when travelling through probably the only kingdom that still had an absolute fear of magic. Now that they were a troupe of their own, Izo was sure they should probably consider leaving for more friendly lands. Sometimes he wondered how the hell the two of them were still alive.

Izo walked in the crowd, moving with it towards a cacophony of sounds that could be nothing but the market place of a big city. He could tell that he was getting closer by the smell of foreign spices in the air and the sound of voices with heavy accents haggling over prices. It was exactly the place he wanted to be, where no one would pay attention to him in the slightest and he could buy something to bring back to the inn where Thatch was hopefully still sleeping. It was only then that he considered it may have been a bad idea to just leave while Thatch slept without leaving him a note or something.

With the gold they'd made with their performance, Izo knew he could afford anything he might have wanted, and it was a very pleasing thought after a long while of earning just enough money not to starve. He wasn't looking to spend the entire handful of coins he grabbed from Ace the night before right away, though, hoping just for some fresh fruit and perhaps a pastry. There was no denying that he was suddenly anxious to get back to make sure Thatch didn't think he was abandoned. Izo found himself slightly overwhelmed by that worry, especially since it wasn't something he usually felt for people he slept with.

He put that aside for now, though. Panicking never worked out for him so Izo move towards the nearest stall that sold fruit, already determined to just pay whatever he was asked without arguing over prices. Not the way he usually did things, but this was turning into a fairly unique situation, and he wasn't sure what to make of it. He didn't dwell on it yet, though, as he breezed through the marketplace and bought what he came for. If he picked up an extra bottle of expensive oil as an afterthought, it was no one's business other than his and Thatch's. All in all, it must have been the shortest trip to the market he'd ever taken.

Izo was used to the crowd and how to navigate through it at this point, making his way between stalls and people back on the way to the inn. He hurried as much as he could with this many people determined to push into him in their haste to walk in the opposite direction Izo was walking in. There was almost a sea of people entering the marketplace and walking through it with quick and, dare he say, panicked steps. He seemed to be the only one fighting against the current of people in an attempt to get out of the overcrowded market and the notion was slowly starting to worry him. There seemed to be a lot worrying him that morning, and Izo couldn't say he was happy about that particular development.

The high pitched roar piercing through the air broke that line of thought, immediately putting him on high alert. He'd know that roar anywhere, and it never bode well when it could be heard. Izo wasn't a bad person, he thought, but he was more concerned about Ace's wellbeing in this situation than the people who were in physical danger. It was probably wrong of him, and he knew it, but there was no helping it, really.

Without a second thought, the items he bought only moments before were forgotten and slipped from the grasp of his hand, no longer important. Izo did, however, spare a regretful thought for Thatch, knowing there was no way to go back now that Ace needed him more. He started moving through the crowd with more force this time, doing his best to get closer to where the roaring originated from.

With one hand holding his cloak up to make sure people didn't step on it and drag him down, Izo reached for a hidden pouch sewn into the fabric with his free hand. He'd sewn countless hex bags into the lining of his coat, for protection and easy access to summoning spells without having to carry a bag of bones and herbs with him. The one near his left hip was what he needed now, filled with bones and feathers dirtied with his blood. His fingers gripped it tight, the familiar spell muttered in a single breath before Onyx materialised and immediately perched on his shoulder as he pushed through the crowd.

This time he hadn't bothered with speaking the command for Onyx to fly out and find Ace, knowing he would raise suspicion if he were to speak to himself in a crowd of already panicked people. Onyx soared from his shoulder without a sound, disappearing ahead over the throng of people while Izo followed with far more effort. The crowd wasn't thinning around him at all and the panic only grew as Izo moved further away from the market place. Distant crashes joined the overall sounds of panic and Izo had to reach out for Onyx, intent on finding Ace as soon as possible. 

Moving on instinct, Izo closed his eyes and letting his mind reach out for Onyx and see through her eyes only to confirm what he knew already. Ace stood in one of the nearby city squares, fire spouting from his maw with each shriek of a roar. The people around him were screaming, the crowd less calm and orderly, doing their best to get away even if someone else needed to be knocked down in the process.

Izo hurried, as much as he could, knowing Ace wasn't that far away. He turned into a nearby street, finally breaking free from the crowd of people the closer he got to Ace. Still, there were far too many people around Ace even if there weren't that many altogether. The city guard had him surrounded, from what Izo could see, doing their best to block Ace's path, but their best wasn't enough against a dragon. In fact, they were barely making a difference with no magic to speak of and unable to come close enough to hit him with swords. Not that swords would make a difference either, if the way the guards' arrows bounced off his scales was any indication. 

Onyx was flying overhead, but Izo didn't need her sight anymore, using his own two eyes as he stepped into the square and raised his hands. The cloak draped over his legs again now that he had to let it go. People were still running away from Ace, and Izo had a short moment to wonder where the hell they were all still coming from, but that wasn't important.

With his hands up, Izo started speaking the spell that worked best to calm Ace and put him to sleep long enough for him to change back. Izo did his best to keep his eyes on Ace, seeking out eye contact while moving closer to where everything was happening. After all, he needed to get Ace away as soon as he turned back before the guards caught him.

People were still bumping into Izo as he approached, running for their life from inside nearby houses and shops, jostling him as they passed, but that did nothing to break his focus. He was stronger than that. The effect of the spell was slowly becoming more obvious as Izo drew closer, Ace's attention snapping towards where Izo was. Unfortunately, that drew the guards' attention as well, but things started happening so fast, Izo barely had time to register what was going on.

One of the people fleeing the square bumped into Izo before he felt the collar of his cloak choke him as he was pulled back, the buttons popping not a moment later to ease the pressure. The person who'd stepped on his cloak was already gone. Izo didn't let this stop him, though, intent on continuing the spell with barely a choked gasp interrupting it with his hands still in the air.

"Stop him, he's controlling the dragon!" The shout tore through the air, and Izo couldn't pinpoint where it came from. Not that it mattered anyway, but the meaning of them didn't even come through to him just yet. "He's got the mark of evil!" another voice sounded, and Izo finally understood what was being said.

So did the guards, it seemed, as they all turned their attention to Izo, several arrows pointing at him immediately and a few others approaching him with their swords drawn.

"Burn him to save us!" Another shout was heard, and Izo stuttered through the spell, realising his worst fear was coming true and he could do nothing to save himself.

Well, he could, but that would mean running and leaving Ace behind to wreak havoc. There was no knowing if he'd turn back by himself eventually or if he'd stay a dragon forever; Izo always turned him back as fast as possible. With the number of armed guards coming at him with drawn swords, Izo doubted that would be the case this time as well.

He still kept going through the spell though, unwilling to stop because one break or missed word and he'd have to do it all over again, something he couldn't afford this time. Ace roared once again, making the guards quicken their steps towards Izo. This was the most helpless he'd ever felt in his life, almost as bad as it was back in the prison and even as he continued speaking the words he knew by heart, Izo knew it was hopeless.

An arrow whizzed past him, too close for comfort, and it was enough to distract him from noticing one of the guards coming close enough to drive the hilt of his sword into the back of Izo's neck. His focus was broken as he dropped to his knees, the back of his head throbbing and the pain making his vision go black for a moment.

When he came to, his hands were tied, and two guards were dragging him away. He could hear roaring, but Ace was no longer in sight. The pain was almost unbearable, but Izo managed to lift his head and stare ahead, hoping to offer an explanation or a plea to let him go back and help Ace. His gaze fell on a pole in front of him, surrounded by wood and straw and the words died in his throat. It always amazed him how fast people could build a pyre to burn a witch, even when the city was being attacked by a dragon. It was dedication he could possibly admire in a different situation.

Regret washed over Izo as he remembered Thatch and leaving without a note, knowing Thatch would be awake by now and probably worried or worse. Izo could only sigh at the irony of it, of finding a semblance of normalcy just before his worst fear came true. With that though, Izo let Onyx fly off in search of Thatch. It wasn't much in terms of a goodbye, but it was all he had at the moment.


	8. Chapter 8

Flabbergasted, Marco looked at the door where Ace had just run through. For the second time, Ace had left him standing naked, the only difference being that this time they actually had had sex. Well, that, and Ace didn’t seem to have stolen his trousers.

Last night had gone nothing like he had expected. He had wanted to tell Ace he was genuinely impressed by the trick where he set himself on fire. Marco had seen many performers in his day, but this had been a new trick. Ace had just waved away his compliment like he was nothing but the opening act, but Marco didn’t believe that. He was sure Izo was amazing, even though he had missed most of it because he had been staring at Ace. At some point during the night, perhaps during Ace’s performance, Marco had decided that it would probably be more productive to see if Ace was still interested in him rather than trying to kill him. After all, that desire had been mostly because Ace had robbed him, fueled with sexual frustration. Marco couldn’t say he had minded much when Thatch and Izo had disappeared; it would give them some time alone. So he was pleased when Ace decided to stay with him.

That night, Marco had started to get to know the real Ace, not just an exchange of superficial flirtations like their first encounter had been. Ace had a difficult past that he didn’t like to talk about. Marco could sympathise with that, but he had been glad he could make Ace smile. When they had left for the inn, Marco had been fairly sure how the night would end, and he had never been so happy he was right.

Remembering he had a sense of decency, Marco put on his trousers. Everything had seemed so great not even ten minutes ago. He had woken up next to Ace after a night of passion, with the promise of more after breakfast. The sex had been fantastic and not just because Marco hadn’t gotten any in awhile. He had felt a connection with Ace that he hadn’t felt with his other bedpartners.

Shaking himself from his thoughts, Marco decided to go look for Ace, to calm him down and apologise. He threw on a shirt and put on his boots, before running out of the room. He didn’t see Ace in the hallway, so he called his name. Ace had been looking for Izo for an unknown reason, and there was a good chance Izo was in this inn as well, but when he asked the landlord if he had seen Ace, he was pointed outside. The city was crowded despite the early hour, but Marco managed to see a flash of orange disappearing. “Ace!” he called again, but Ace either didn’t hear him or ignored him. Marco chased after him, but Ace was fast. Marco looked for him for a while, but he obviously didn’t want to be found. Sighing, Marco returned to the inn. Back in his room, he sank down on his bed, his hands supporting his head.

The look on Ace’s face before he ran out had been one of sheer panic, but Marco was sure it wasn’t about the sex. Ace had seemed as sober as he the night before, despite consuming an impressive amount of alcohol. Besides, that morning he had eagerly responded to Marco’s kiss, not to mention his suggestion to go again. No, Ace’s panic had started the moment his necklace broke.

Marco knelt down and started to collect the beads. As he picked one up, he studied it closely. It was crudely made, as if someone had been in a hurry, from red clay with runes carved in it. Marco knew they were meant to protect the wearer, but why Ace had panicked so badly was beyond him. Was he that paranoid about something or someone harming him? Marco wouldn’t let that happen. And what did Izo have to do with it? Did Ace want to tell on him because he broke the necklace so Izo could hex him? It was only the string that was broken, though some beads showed cracks. Marco wondered if that was his fault. He had barely touched the necklace. Last night, when they had been in bed, it had survived some rougher stuff. After all, Marco had never seen Ace take it off.

Still, Marco was the one who broke it, so he should fix it. From his bag he retrieved a string which he cut in the appropriate length and threaded the beads together. When he was done, he put on his shirt and his boots to look for Ace. In the hallway, he bumped into Thatch, who looked rather dismayed.

“Have you seen Izo?” he asked, a hint of whine in his voice.

“No. Have you seen Ace?”

Thatch shook his head. “Though, now that you mention it, I did hear someone calling for Izo, which was why I woke up and found him gone.” He was actually pouting now, but then he seemed to realise something. “Wait, why was Ace looking for Izo? You didn’t try to kill him again, did you?” he asked, disapproving.

“I didn’t. We… actually made nice yesterday.” Marco couldn’t prevent a smirk creeping up his face.

Thatch’s eyebrows rose. “You mean…”

If possible, Marco’s grin grew even more. “You’re not the only one with seduction skills.”

Thatch snorted. “Yeah, well, if I’m that good, where the hell has Izo gone?”

“Maybe he wanted to surprise you with breakfast in bed,” Marco offered and placed a reassuring hand on Thatch’s shoulder. Thatch seemed genuinely dismayed about Izo’s disappearance. Marco was fairly sure Thatch didn’t fall for Izo just because he was pretty; those two seemed to have something special. Thatch should realise that as well.

Thatch frowned. “I hope so. Though maybe I should look-” He stopped talking abruptly and his eyes widened almost comically as if he had seen a ghost.

“What is it?” Marco asked and turned around when Thatch pointed behind him with a trembling finger. “I don’t see anything,” he said, slightly annoyed when he was only looking at a wooden ceiling. However, something seemed to have really scared Thatch, but before he could further inquire, they heard loud screams coming from outside. Marco hastened himself to the window in the hall and looked outside. Everywhere he looked on the streets, people were running, away from the centre of town.

“What’s going on?” Thatch asked worriedly as he joined Marco at the window.

Marco didn’t reply as he peered outside to find the source of the panic. He found it soon enough, flying over the inn in the direction of the town centre. He cursed loudly.

Thatch’s eyes had widened again. “Is that a…”

The reason that they had gone on this quest was to find a dragon, but they had never imagined that a dragon would find _them_. Marco looked at the necklace in his hand. If Ace had gone outside, he would be in danger.

“I have to fight it,” he said determinedly.

“What about Izo and Ace?” Thatch protested.

“You go find them.” Marco hesitated, but then pressed the necklace into Thatch’s hands. “When you find Ace, give this to him.”

“Isn’t this Ace’s necklace?” Thatch asked confusedly.

“Yeah.”

“Then why do you have it?”

“Not now, Thatch!” Marco called impatiently and made to go back to his room to put on his armour, but Thatch caught his arm.

“Are you sure about this?”

“It’s my job,” Marco said grimly. “Go make sure Izo and Ace are safe, while I distract the dragon. Go!” he called when Thatch still didn’t move.

Thatch didn’t need more encouragement and ran towards the stairs, while Marco made his way to his room. He put on his armour in record time, trying not to dwell on the thought of Ace sitting on his knees in front of him as he took off Marco’s greaves. When he was finished dressing, he grabbed his sword scabbard and shield, that was decorated with his father’s symbol - a cross with a crescent shape through it - before following Thatch outside.

Outside the inn, it was complete chaos. Buildings were on fire and crumbling down. People ran past, screaming loudly. Children tripped and fell before a concerned adult picked them up and continued to flee the city. The city guard had their hands full with trying to evacuate quickly and effectively, without people trampling each other. They obviously hadn’t been trained for an emergency like this, though it made sense as dragons were rare even in countries that did have magic.

It wasn’t hard to discern where the dragon was. It was still circling above the city, breathing fire and roaring loudly. Once he was out of the stream of people, having moved carefully not to hurt anyone, Marco didn’t hesitate for a second and whistled sharply on his fingers. Phoenix had clearly already sensed the danger and managed to escape the stable. She wasn’t saddled, nor did she have any reins, but that couldn’t be helped right now. Marco climbed on her back and steered in the direction of the dragon. Phoenix had been his faithful companion for a long time, having fought many monsters together. Which was the reason Marco had been so pissed when she got stolen. On the other hand, Phoenix never let a stranger ride her unless Marco was okay with them, so she had to have trusted Ace somehow, which had partly been the reason Marco decided not to kill Ace.

Ace… Where was he? Was he safe? Marco shook his head and focused on the task at hand as he pressed his body against his horse’s neck and held onto the manes. People were running in the opposite direction as he was riding, which he was glad about. He hoped that after Thatch had found Ace and Izo that he would help with the evacuation of Sabaody, because he doubted that the authorities knew what to do. This part of the land rarely saw magic, and dragons weren’t that common either. Something about the situation was nagging at him. Perhaps it was the timing. Just when Thatch and Marco had pretty much given up their quest for a mysterious dragon that may or may not have lived in some corner of the land at some point in time, this dragon attacked the town they were staying in. Had Ace’s and Izo’s sudden disappearance something to do with it? He looked at the sky again. No, this was definitely not one of Izo’s smoke animals, but Marco had to admit, he suspected that Izo was much more powerful than he had shown up till now. But why would he call a dragon? And what did Ace have to do with it?

As he came closer, he could estimate the size of the dragon. It wasn’t that big - Marco had faced bigger ones before - but what it lacked in size, it made up in destructive power. It breathed fire and destroyed buildings like they were made of cards.

As Marco rode over the the square in the middle of town where Izo and Ace had performed the night before, he noticed a small group of people who appeared to be gathering firewood and straw, even ripping wooden door out of their hinges. What the hell were they doing? “Get the hell out of here!” Marco called, but he didn’t have time to pay much attention to them. The dragon suddenly swooped down over the people and scattered them, as they ran for their loves with piles of wood and bales of straw.

Some brave - or stupid - city guards tried to fight the dragon, but fled soon enough when the monster turned its attention to them. Weapons were thrown to the ground as they ran for their lives. Marco was relieved by that, he didn’t have the time to protect people who thought they could handle a monster like this when they clearly couldn’t. Plus, they would only be in the way.

Marco looked around. He didn’t have a long distance weapon with him, so he needed to lure the dragon down and towards him somehow. He dismounted and picked up a rock, throwing it at the beast. It didn’t even seemed to notice it. Marco grabbed a bigger one, hitting the dragon against one of its talons. It let out a shriek and looked around where the annoyance - because it could be no more than that - came from. Its look settled on Marco, who was standing on the middle of the square, throwing up a new rock in his hand with a smirk.

The dragon landed in front of Marco, allowing him to get a good look. The beast was about the same height as Marco when it was standing on all fours, but had to be at least three times his length from head to tail. Overall, it was completely black, though several scales were a reddish colour as if they consisted of lava, but upon closer inspection, Marco saw they weren’t damaged like he initially thought. Next to its breast scales, around its eyes  and on the outside of its wings, there were scales that stood up like feathers, giving the animal a birdlike appearance. However, it were its eyes that stood out the most, with their golden colour. Gold...

The beast didn’t allowed him further musings, as it opened its mouth and breathed fire in Marco’s direction. Marco rolled aside, mounting Phoenix in record time. The dragon stood in its hind legs, towering over Marco even on horseback, and opened its mouth again. Marco dug his heels into Phoenix’ flanks, speeding up her pace. He circled the dragon, trying to find a weak spot. Of course, the dragon turned with him, and Marco had to get out of the way of another ray of fire. When he reached the dragon’s flank, he charged, but his sword ricocheted off the scales. The dragon lashed out with its front talon, tearing his coat of mail and flesh like butter. Marco screamed as he was wounded, steering Phoenix away from the danger. He took only a second to estimate the damage. He was wounded on his sword arm, but he could still move it. His powers immediately kicked in. Blue flames licked at the wound, healing it, but the damage to his coat of mail was permanent.

The fight took much longer than he would have liked, but at least the square was now empty of people. The buildings surrounding it as well as the fountain he had sat on with Ace the night before were destroyed or damaged. This relatively small dragon shouldn’t have given him this much effort, however, but its scales were impenetrable and Marco had yet to find a weak spot.

Suddenly, he heard a child screaming, and when he turned his head, he saw a girl holding a doll, crying for her mother. The dragon had heard the screaming as well, turning to the much less chewier prey than the armoured Marco. It braced itself by placing its front legs on the pavement and took a deep breath. Marco dove off Phoenix, protecting both the girl and himself with his shield. He could feel the heat through the metal, but just when he feared his shield would fail him, the ray of fire stopped. Marco checked if the girl was okay. Aside from a few scrapes on her hands, she was. Hastily, he healed them and sent her away, before scrambling to his feet again.

The dragon’s jaw snapped forward, and Marco could see its teeth flash in the sunlight. He definitely did not want to be caught between those. Jumping aside, he whistled to call Phoenix, jumping on her back before the dragon could charge again. Once more, he started to circle the dragon, hoping that the animal would be stupid enough to follow him until it got dizzy, or if it didn’t, that he would find a weak spot. The dragon did turn with him, but not fast enough as Marco could see faint cracks in the scales on its back. In a flash, he recognised runic symbols, but didn’t know their origin or meaning. Before he could have a good look, the dragon flapped its wings and rose into the air.

Marco cursed under his breath, but he was mistaken in the notion that the dragon was fleeing. It turned and dove down towards Marco. Marco reacted too late and was thrown off Phoenix. The next thing he knew, he was lying on his back on the ground, pinned down by his arms with sharp talons, while sharp white teeth threatened to tear his flesh away.

                                                            


	9. Chapter 9

Even though Thatch knew there was no possible way a raven, or any other bird for that matter, could pass through walls like a ghost, that was exactly what he'd seen before being distracted by an actual dragon causing panic outside. The appearance of that ghost bird was enough to distract him from the disappointment and worry of waking up alone, Izo and the clothes he'd worn nowhere in sight. The clench of panic in his chest at the sight of an empty bed was something he didn't want to think about now, or ever.

Marco's words did soothe him a bit, despite the expertly hidden distress visible on Marco's own face while he said it. Thatch could understand it in this situation, with both Ace and Izo gone, and Ace apparently shouting for Izo for a reason they couldn't discern at the moment. Thatch couldn't help but wonder, for a short moment, whether they'd ever find out what that reason was. 

The dragon was the biggest distraction, however, turning the worry about where Izo and Ace were into an overwhelming fear. They could have been in danger and neither Thatch nor Marco would know what happened. It had been so long since the last time Thatch had anyone but Marco to worry about and it was almost too much to feel all at once. His chest felt too tight and breathing felt like an impossible feat, especially when Marco ran out of the inn to fight. It was far from the first time Marco took on a quest like this upon himself, but Thatch couldn’t stop worrying about him. Having to worry about all three of them all at once, though, was something entirely different. 

Thatch ran out of the inn, finding himself amidst a wave of panicking people stumbling over one another in an attempt to get away from the black dragon roaring too close for comfort. He wasn’t sure how long he stood there, watching wave after wave of townsfolk run past him before Marco came out as well. Marco, who seemed to be the only one running towards the dragon, spared not even a moment to slow down and say something to Thatch. Not that there was anything to say at this point when even the city guards kept their distance from the beast, directing the civilians towards wider streets where they could get away faster. By the looks of things, the dragon had been at this for a while, moving deeper into the city and no one knew what to do. 

“Get to the eastern gates and out of the city!” one of the guards shouted just a short distance away from Thatch, waving at people to move faster. “Take only what you need!”

It wasn’t a crowd per se, but the streets weren’t that wide and the overall panic made everything more difficult, including Marco fighting his way towards the dragon. Thatch, though, was frozen in spot, eyes glued to the back of Marco’s head as he moved, towering over the citizens he passed. The crying of a child snapped Thatch’s attention to the people in front of him, losing sight of Marco momentarily.

A mother shushed the small girl immediately, almost within reach of where Thatch stood. “It’ll be alright, darling,” the woman said, surprisingly soothingly considering their surroundings, “the guards captured the witch controlling the dragon, this will be over when the evil witch is purged.” 

If she said anything else, Thatch hadn’t heard it as they hurried away while he stood there, rooted to the spot in front of the inn. His blood ran cold with a new wave of fear running through him because he knew, for some reason, that it was Izo. Izo was the witch, and the so called purge couldn’t possibly be anything good. He couldn’t explain, even to himself, how he knew the woman meant Izo, but he was never more sure of anything in his life. 

Thatch wanted to shout and tell Marco, but he was too far away already, never straying from his path towards the dragon. He still had quite a bit of a distance to cover considering the fact Marco moved with care, making sure he didn’t accidentally hurt someone. Going after Marco would take more time than he had at the moment, and Thatch knew he was on his own.

The caw of a raven sounding just next to his ear made him jump, his heart almost beating out of his chest as he fell back against the wall. Thatch turned his to the side, finding two black beady eyes looking straight at him. He hadn’t even felt a bird land on his shoulder. But the longer he stared, the more he felt as if he was looking into Izo’s eyes which was fairly disturbing in a way. 

He had no time to think of that, though, as the bird took flight from its perch on his shoulder and soared above the people passing by, flying between two nearby houses into an alley that seemed to be empty of people. Without a second though, Thatch cut through the moving crowd and followed as fast as he could, ignoring the angry shouts in his wake because that hardly mattered at the moment. 

It was hard to say what exactly made Thatch trust a bird, but this raven looked the same as the one he’d seen pass through a wall to watch him, then landed on his shoulder without him noticing; obviously, it wasn’t an ordinary bird and everything about it reminded Thatch of Izo. Or perhaps he was just losing his mind due to the overwhelmingly odd situation he’d woken up to. This one day with Ace and Izo was more adventurous than the entire journey with Marco so far, and Thatch wasn’t sure he liked this much excitement all at once. 

The bird flew ahead, disappearing out of sight before seemingly materialising out of smoke just in front of Thatch once again to lead the way. If he hadn’t been sure the raven was connected to Izo before, he certainly was now with the smoke surrounding it being the same as Izo’s illusions. It was the first good thing to happen since he’d woken up, and Thatch wanted to take it as a sign that the day would only get better from there.

Unfortunately, things tended to get much worse before getting better, Thatch realised this as he stepped into one of the main streets and let his eyes follow the raven to the left where the street led into a square. He wasn't paying attention to the dragon flying overhead until now, so it wasn't too odd he'd missed it moving from near the inn to this side of town, but Thatch had no idea which streets Marco took to get there unnoticed. This place was like a maze. Come to think of it, Thatch wasn't too sure how he himself got there and whether he'd find his way without the raven leading him.

Marco was on his horse now, focused on fighting and doing his best to keep the dragon there where there were no more people left. The buildings surrounding the square were taking a lot of damage, but Marco was still going strong and, as far as Thatch could see, he was completely uninjured. At least that was a relief, though Thatch knew that Marco was the only one in this whole situation he didn't have to worry about. 

Another caw of the raven drew Thatch's attention, and he looked away from Marco and the dragon to look at the bird perched on a shop sign from the nearest building, staring at him with clever eyes. Once Thatch looked up, the bird flew off once again, leading past the square and towards the city gates where people were fleeing the city. He followed the raven hurriedly, running down the cobbled street as fast as he could.

The raven no longer waited for him, instead just flew straight ahead, passing unseen over the heads of the last people to leave the city. Thatch was close behind, with the dragon's roar still loud in the air all around them. The distance between him and the gates didn't seem to get any smaller, at least not from where Thatch was, but he kept going nonetheless, knowing he had no time to lose.

He was stopped in front of the gates themselves, unable to pass through them as a mass of people crowded close in an attempt to get out as fast as possible, but only succeeding in blocking the only way out. Thatch was growing more frustrated and worried, something he hadn't thought possible, but somehow still managed to get through. Perhaps it was too late to hope that the witch in question wasn't Izo, but he couldn't help but try as he pushed his way through the crowd, completely ignoring the fact he was angering people guilty of nothing more than fearing for their lives.

There was no telling what might wait for him on the outside of the city gates, and Thatch stepped out with trepidation, expecting the worst, but still somehow hoping for the best. He could see almost nothing but the people around him; it looked as if the city's entire population was gathered in this one spot and looking for Izo would be like looking for a needle in a haystack. Still, he tried, moving through the crowd of crying and frightened people, moving further from the tall walls that blocked out the roaring of the dragon.

He was on a small square of sorts, surrounded by the smaller houses outside of the city's walls, when he heard it. "Burn the witch!" someone shouted, and Thatch let out a wounded sound, dread running through his veins like ice, and he couldn't move further as he let the words wash over him. He wasn't sure how to explain the feeling that ripped through his chest at that. When the crowd started cheering at the words, Thatch started moving.

Met with resistance as soon as he started shoving through the crowd, Thatch was almost unable to fight his way through the sheer number of people packed into a tight circle around the pyre that was already puffing out smoke in the middle. The cheers were interrupted by curses and angry shouts, directed both at Thatch and the witch they couldn't possibly see from where they stood. The cacophony of voices filled with both joy and anger was almost too much for Thatch to take, but he didn't allow himself to dwell on this, focused only on getting to Izo. 

"Izo!" he shouted, but his voice got drowned out by the noise around him.

The raven that led him this far was soaring in the air, circling around what Thatch assumed was the stake where Izo was. No one seemed to pay any attention to this bird, and Thatch let himself look away too, focusing on pushing through to crowd. The smell of burning straw filled his nostrils, making his lungs burn, but he pushed forward nonetheless, letting people curse him out.

"Izo!" he called out again, completely aware how desperate he sounded.

Someone shoved him, but Thatch didn't bother looking back, only interested in pressing forward, but the resistance from the people around him was growing, the crowd more tightly packed near the front. He couldn't give up, though, not when he was this close.

What he would do once he got to the pyre, though, was something Thatch hadn't yet thought about, and the despair still clenching his chest was making it impossible to consider it at the moment. His mind was focused on one thing for now, one course of action he could achieve before having to worry about how to actually help. The images of Izo already burning were almost too much, yet they were what pushed him further, past the citizens that had welcomed both Izo and Ace with such warmth and adoration just last night. It was almost grotesque how the tables have turned on them so quickly.

Finally, Thatch made it to the front of the crowd, breaking through the last row of the people shouting obscenities only to be stopped by a row of armed guards forming a ring around the pyre. Even though he was almost too frightened to look up, Thatch knew he had to. If nothing else, to at least see if it was in fact Izo up there. 

At the same time, though, he didn't want to know. Knowing would somehow make all of it more real.

Despite that, Thatch looked up, and his eyes found Izo straight away, tied to a wooden pole in the middle of burning straw. The fire had only just been started and hadn't reached him yet, but he looked absolutely devastated with his eyes trained in front of him. Thatch stood off to the side where Izo couldn't see him, but Thatch had a perfect view of Izo's unbuttoned cloak and the visible mark.

"Izo!" he shouted one more time, pushing against the guard trying to hold him back. Izo's gaze snapped towards Thatch immediately, his eyes going wide. 

"Let him go, he did nothing wrong!" Thatch yelled, knowing several of the guards and the people around him could hear him. In all honesty, he wasn't expecting it to do much, but he had to try even if the fire was already lit and approaching Izo's feet. "You can't burn him, he’s innocent!"

His words brought a pleading look to Izo's face, but Thatch knew it was directed at him rather than the people who had the power to free him. Izo wanted him to shut up and let this happen. Definitely a sentiment he could understand, considering he would do the same if the roles were reversed; if Thatch defended Izo now, he'd look suspicious as well. 

But he really didn’t care at the moment.

The people around Thatch, though, reacted exactly like he expected, getting angrier than they were, making their disapproval clear. No one accused him yet which was probably the reason Izo looked momentarily relieved, but Thatch couldn’t find any relief in that. No one took his words seriously, not that he expected they would considering they came from a stranger, but Thatch knew he had to do something if he wanted to get Izo away before the fire reached the fabric of his cloak.

Without a second thought, Thatch pushed against the guards holding the people back, trying to break through their formation and get closer to where Izo was. As surprised as they were, the guards still held the line and managed to push Thatch back into the crowd. The people, however, weren’t too eager to have Thatch amongst them, not now that he openly sympathised with the witch. 

“Thatch, no!” Izo screamed over the noise of the crowd. “Please,” he added quietly, the word going unheard, but Thatch could still discern it from the way Izo’s lips moved.

He knew what Izo wanted, but he couldn’t just stand back and watch an innocent person die. At least he tried to convince himself that he’d do this for someone that wasn’t Izo. But he wasn’t exactly doing anything to help. It was too late to find Marco, and Ace would probably know what to do, but without either of them actually close enough to do anything, Thatch was all Izo had to rely on. Thatch couldn’t say that caused him more distress than what Izo was going through, but it was close in comparison. He’d felt helpless too many times to count and he hated it every single time, in this instance perhaps more than ever before. 

What he hated most, however, was the way Izo didn’t seem to struggle against the ropes he was tied with at all. The look on his face was one of resignation, at least for his own fate, while still managing to look at Thatch as if Thatch is the one who should save himself. In a flash, all of the emotions on Izo's face were gone, replaced by nothing but pain. The change was so abrupt and drastic, Thatch could stop the distressed sound that left his mouth. It didn't take much to notice that the straw had burned through and the flames extended to the wood as well, the fire burning much brighter and destructive.

The flames reached Izo's cloak, but he kept silent, eyes filling out with tears that even Thatch could see from where he stood. He wasn't the only one, that much was obvious from the cheers erupting around him, mixed with calls for the witch to burn. It was too much to take, the situation reminding him all too much of how his own people wanted him dead just like this and how much he hated being feared. Izo was essentially the same in that regard, and Thatch just couldn't watch his life end in such a way.

Without being aware of it immediately, his vision went black before he felt the warmth as the wave of darkness rushed through him. Everyone always assumed it was something wrong and evil, but it was part of him; warm and comforting, making him feel whole despite the danger. He didn't know how to control it, though, he never tried because he kept it closed off where it couldn't hurt others, only ever coming out when he was in danger and overcome with adrenaline. Thatch had no idea what he looked like to the people around him, whether there even was a change or if he still looked like himself, but he certainly felt like another being altogether. 

Distantly, he thought he heard Izo call his name and people screaming around him, or they were still cheering, it was hard to say. And he didn't care at the moment, either, not now that he was finally anything but helpless. He didn't want to kill anyone, though, and he knew Izo wouldn't want that either. After all, Thatch was sure Izo was more than capable of getting himself out of this situation, but he didn’t want to hurt people. If he did, that would make him just as bad as they already thought he was. The warmth in Thatch's chest intensified at that, knowing Izo was truly a good man.

Even though he was capable of helping, Thatch made himself to slow down and think rather than just let his self-preservation instincts take over like they usually did. He had no control in those cases, and people ended up dead. With a deep breath, Thatch closed his eyes and focused his thoughts on the flames surrounding Izo, willing the darkness that surrounded him to reach out and engulf the fire. He could feel the heat of the flames where he close around them, because Thatch was that darkness and he could feel through it.

He smothered the fire, hearing the panic and outrage rise up from the townsfolk all around him, but Thatch paid it no mind. Instead he focused on the stuttered sigh of relief that Izo let out and Thatch let a thread of a shadow extend to caress Izo's cheek and perhaps offer the semblance of comfort for the moment.

It was gone in a flash, though, as a rock flew through the air, hitting Thatch in the shoulder. The people were growing restless, no longer afraid, but angry instead because they couldn't punish the apparent culprit for the destruction of their city. They couldn't beat the dragon itself so they thought to settle on the next best thing. Thatch had no idea how Izo ended up being that next best thing, but it hardly mattered now.

They were surrounded by even more hostility than before, if such a thing was even possible, and Thatch knew he had to stay calm and focused to make a safe passage for them. He'd think about Marco and the dragon after, once they were far enough from the people still intent on punishing someone for all of this. Maybe he'd even ask Izo what kind of logic was at play that ended with him tied to the stake. As far as he knew, magic wasn't illegal and even if the mark on Izo's neck was to blame, Thatch failed to see how a necromancer could possibly be responsible for a dragon pillaging through the city. It wasn't a dead dragon, was it? Because that would probably be problematic for Marco.

Ignoring the rocks and the shouts, Thatch focused once more, willing the shadows to expand around him and push the people away from him. Not too violently, though, he was still intent on doing this with as few casualties as possible even if they were a bunch of vicious ignorant fools.

Making a protective shadowy wall around himself was more difficult than he anticipated, but he pushed through it, expanding the shadows until they closed around Izo as well while keeping all the other people out. Keeping them out was easier, considering they weren't trying to stay close to him anyway, opting for shouting and throwing things at him from a presumably safe distance. No matter how angry, they were still afraid and their fear made this feat easier for Thatch.

Once he was alone with Izo inside the safe expanse of the walls made of shadows, Thatch hurried forward, climbing over the charred and smouldering remains of firewood until he could free Izo from the pole the was tied to. Izo hugged him tight as soon as he could, his heart hammering with such force that Thatch felt it where Izo's chest touched his own. Izo's eyes were dry, revealing no sign of tears, but he looked shaken, his gaze frantically searching for something in Thatch's eyes.

"Did you see the dragon?" he asked, and Thatch frowned, unsure about the purpose of Izo's question.

"Yes," he said, still holding onto Izo. "The last I saw, Marco was fighting it in the main square. We need to help him."

Izo's eyes widened and his grip tightened in the fabric of Thatch's tunic. The expression on his face soon turned to one of fear and pleading, thought Thatch had no idea what for.

"It's Ace," Izo whispered as if the words were unwilling to leave his mouth.

"What?" Thatch was sure he was frowning even more fiercely than before.

"The dragon is Ace," Izo said frantically. "Well, Ace is the dragon. But he's not himself, he doesn't know what he's doing!"

Thatch was speechless, the shock something he would probably be unable to explain and it showed, the surprise and distress  shaking the solidity of the barrier he put up between the two of them and essentially the rest of the world. His control wasn't strong enough for this, and Izo must have noticed as he cupped Thatch's cheeks with his hands, as red and chaffed from the ropes as they were.

"Thatch, look at me," he pleaded, and Thatch couldn't refuse it. "You need to get me there before one of them dies. I can turn him back before anyone else gets hurt, but we can't let Marco kill him. Please, will you help me get to Ace?"

He couldn't say no such a request, both because it came from Izo and because he remembered, with absolute clarity, how Izo said he and Ace had meet in the same prison where Izo was experimented on. That could only mean Ace walked out of there in the same shape as Izo had. Or possibly worse. It would be enough of a reason for Thatch to agree, even if he wasn't already determined to help in any way he could. 

"I'll get you there, but we need to hurry," he said, pulling Izo into another brief hug before he focused on fixing the walls. It took a lot of concentration to keep it sturdy enough so people couldn't break through it, but he needed to do more if they wanted to escape. 

Never before had he been this frustrated at his reluctance to learn about his own powers enough to use them like everyone else around him did, all out of an irrational fear that he'd be hated even more if he used the gift he was given. Deep down he knew that wouldn't happen, mostly because of the fact that he couldn't possibly be hated even more than he already was. That, however, was a depressing thought for another time.

Thatch let go of Izo and turned around towards the city walls he could still see over the houses around them, focusing as hard as he could on reaching out with the shadows that made up his protective wall in an attempt at creating a passage through the crowd that surrounded them outside of the small safe circle. He could feel himself shake with the effort, a bone deep ache settling inside him from the exertion, but this was no time to give up simply because it was too difficult.

The shapes and walls he created were crude at best, no control or finesse about them, but they served their purpose. Thatch grabbed Izo's hand as he turned his gaze towards the awed look on Izo's face.

"Can you walk?" he asked, intent on carrying Izo if he needed to just so they could get to Marco and Ace in time.

Izo nodded in reply, already moving with a hurried step, and Thatch followed immediately after. He could hear the angry shouts around them, but neither of them seemed to care, breaking into a run as soon as they were out of the angry mob. Thatch was the one who took the lead and pulled them into an alleyway between a row of houses, dispelling the shadowed walls around them so they could blend into the much friendlier and still scared crowd on the other end of the alley. 

Of course, he was still afraid of someone following them and starting a panic on this side as well, but they slowed down and blended in with the people who were last to leave the city, the ones with charred and burned clothes and ashen smudges on their skin. Izo didn’t look so out of place amongst them, and Thatch was sure that would be enough of a disguise in the short distance between them and the city gate. Luckily, there were no guards stationed there anymore now that all the people have left the city and it was all too easy to run back in through the gates. No one followed, even if they were noticed and that, at least, brought some relief to Thatch, enough that he could finally appreciate the fact that Izo was safe. 

It didn’t escape his notice, though, that Izo seemed to become more winded as they ran down the wide street that would eventually lead them to the square where Thatch had last seen Marco. Thatch himself wasn’t getting tired just yet, but Izo was slowly starting to look like it took a lot of effort just to keep moving. The look of determination on his face, though, was enough to know he wasn’t going to stop until Ace was alright.

Not a moment passed before a roar sounded just a short distance ahead, letting Thatch know that the fight hadn’t moved from the square and that Ace was luckily still alive. Marco probably didn’t allow him to move from the square considering it was easier to fight in a bigger open space rather than narrow streets. Just as he wouldn’t allow the dragon to follow all the people that fled. Even if Marco couldn't kill the dragon, he would do anything he could to stop it from hurting people. 

Hearing the roar seemed to renew Izo's strength, and he moved faster, pulling ahead of Thatch in an attempt to get there as soon as possible. They hadn't spoken of a plan or what their course of action was meant to be, other than Izo turning Ace back, but Thatch knew he had to tell Marco as soon as possible. Not only did he deserve to know, but it would also determine the way he approached the fight while Izo used his magic to bring Ace back. 

The closer they got, the louder the roaring was, accompanied by crashing and the sound of glass shattering, horseshoes thudding against the cobbled ground mixed into the noise. Somehow, they were hopeful sounds, revealing that everyone was still alive and most likely well enough.

They turned the corner and entered the square just in time to see Marco hit the ground with the dragon looming above him, menacing and set on ending Marco where he lay with sharp talons and even sharper teeth. Despite knowing Marco could heal from any wound, Thatch couldn't quell the fear that almost choked him as he watched the scene unfold. In all their years together, Marco had never come close to losing a fight, let alone this close to death. 

The sight seemed to spur Izo into action as he let go of Thatch's hand, the expression on his face turning fierce, rather than scared or tired, as he lifted his hands and shouted something Thatch didn't understand. The dragon's head snapped towards them, his keen gold eyes trained on Izo while he moved closer to the beast and Marco. Now that he could take a proper look at the dragon, he could see the familiarity in those eyes and the differently coloured scales that were so similar to Ace's freckles that it was impossible not to notice they were basically one and the same.

"Izo, what are you doing?" Marco shouted, his attention also drawn by whatever it was that Izo shouted. "Get back!"

Izo didn't even glance down, though, nor did he slow down or change course towards the dragon. Even if this dragon was technically Ace, Thatch had a hard time thinking of them as the same with such a vast difference between this violent beast and grinning innocent looking Ace. Though, knowing what he knew now, Thatch could see just how Ace performed his fire tricks.

Marco struggled to get out of the dragon's hold and make Izo turn away, but Izo still hadn't shown any interest in anything beside the dragon, and Thatch recognised this as his turn to get into the fray. Well, it wasn't much of a fray really, with Marco downed and the dragon losing interest in him, focused entirely on Izo. Perhaps too much, Thatch noticed, as he let go of Marco without even looking at him before making his way towards Izo with slow calculated movements. Like a predator stalking his prey, making Thatch almost sick with the unease.

His instincts screamed at him to run, to grab Izo and get as far away from the danger as possible and never look back. It was just a momentary thought, however, one he would never go through with because it would mean leaving Marco behind and leaving Ace like this with every single person just outside the city walls in danger.

So he did nothing to interfere with what Izo was doing and instead made his way towards Marco in a way that would hopefully not draw the dragon's attention. Marco got up and reached for his sword, ready to follow after the dragon, even if it meant he'd had to fight him on foot. Seeing him that determined made Thatch hurry up until he was running towards Marco, giving the dragon a wide berth.

"Marco, stop!" he exclaimed once he was close enough to speak without having to shout. "Leave it to Izo!"

"He'll get hurt, I need to kill that dragon and you know it!" Marco shouted, unnecessarily so, gesturing towards the dragon and Izo, looking ready to jump back into the fight.

"Marco," Thatch started, lifting his hand and placing it on Marco's shoulder once he was within touching distance. The tone of his voice made Marco stop and look at him, probably aware that he wasn't going to like what Thatch had to say. "It's Ace."

"What happened to Ace? Did you find him?" Marco asked frantically, now immensely worried, but also angry at the same time. Most likely because he thought he failed to protect Ace. "Please tell me he's alive!"

"No, Marco," Thatch said, lifting his other hand to Marco's other shoulder. "Ace is the dragon. You can't kill him," he said gently, knowing Marco wasn't going to take it well.

Marco was quiet, his eyes wide as he stared at Thatch first then turned his head to look at the beast he'd been fighting and how it was stalking towards Izo with a clear intent on hunting and killing.

"It can't be him," was the only thing he uttered, still staring with such blatant disbelief, but Thatch could tell he was recognising the similarities between the dragon and Ace, the eyes and the freckles. Mostly, though, Thatch could see that the way Izo looked up at the dragon was the same as he looked at Ace, with obvious love and a fierce desire to protect, was what convinced Marco that Thatch's words were true.

Thatch turned to look at Izo as well, now that he knew Marco wasn't set on storming up to the dragon to fight again. Izo looked exhausted, his hands shaking so obviously that Thatch could see it from where he stood with Marco, a distance that wasn't exactly small. But he kept up with the spell, his hands shaking, but never wavering from where they were poised in the air. He never stopped to take a breath, the words just spilling from his mouth until the dragon slowed down, swaying as a bright light surrounded him and he roared once, only making Izo speak louder and with more force.

The roar slowly morphed into a high pitched scream, only growing in volume as the light intensified to the point where Thatch couldn't look directly at it anymore. Then in a flash, it was all over and a silence settled over them. The light was gone and the square seemed unnaturally dark after a brightness like that.

Thatch's heart sped up as his eyes searched for Izo and Ace, noticing from the corner of his eye that Marco was doing the same before his eyes fell on Ace's body, lying on the ground in the same spot the dragon stood only moments ago. He almost hadn't believed the dragon really was Ace, but seeing him unconscious on the ground a few meters in front of Izo was enough to solidify what Izo had told him.

Seeing Izo breathing hard, his hands hanging by his sides at last, was what made Thatch move finally, eyes trained on Izo's face as he hurried over the square. The heavy footsteps thundering behind him were a sure enough sign that Marco had the same idea. They hadn't gotten very far, though, before Thatch watched Izo crumple to the ground as if his strings were cut. Thatch started running, going as fast as he possibly could to get to Izo all the while feeling an inkling of guilt for not running to Ace's aid instead.

As soon as he skidded to a halt next to Izo's side, though, Izo came to with a gasp and a deep breath, his eyes wide and frantic. He looked confused and unsure of his surroundings, but Thatch watched him gather his wits in a matter of seconds before he sat up, grabbing Thatch's shoulder to hoist himself up to his feet. He hadn't spoken at all as he hurried to Ace's side, taking his cloak off to drape it over Ace before glancing around frantically.

"Has either of you seen his necklace?" he asked without looking at either of them.

Surprisingly, Marco stared expectantly at Thatch and it took a moment to remember that he was the one that had the necklace. Unbuttoning his shirt a bit, Thatch took out the necklace from around his neck where he'd stashed it earlier. After all, his pockets weren't big enough and he didn't want to leave it just lying around because it was obviously important to Ace. 

Thatch handed it to Izo, smiling at the confused frown on Izo's face at the unexpected development.

"I'll have to make a new one, but this will do for now," Izo said, his voice hoarse and scratchy. This was the worst Thatch had seen him look, his hair unkempt and his clothes dirty, but he still held himself with the usual air of being put together.

He fastened the necklace around Ace's neck, smoothing the cloak around him before he started muttering with his hands placed gently on Ace's cheeks. Thatch watched as Ace started stirring and was finally able to heave a sigh of relief, noticing that Marco did the same next to him.


	10. Chapter 10

Ace woke up, lying on cold hard cobbles and feeling exhausted. Against his neck pressed large round beads, proving that he was wearing a protective necklace once again. As he opened his eyes, he saw Thatch’s face hovering over him, his features a mixture of worry and relief. Ace could also see a clear blue sky above him, indicating he was still outside. Izo was standing next to Thatch, leaning heavily on him and looking rather pale. It was a sight which Ace had seen often before, as it always happened when Izo had to transform Ace back into human form. It drained his powers, and it never failed to make Ace feel guilty. After all, it was his fault for transforming in the first place. Not that he could help it much.

This time, however, Izo looked even more exhausted than usual and he looked a mess with his dishevelled hair and dirty skin. Ace wondered what had happened, because something obviously had. Not just because of how Izo looked, but also judging by the state of the town. Flames were licking at several buildings, others had collapsed altogether. Ace had never been that destructive before, which meant he had been a dragon for a longer time than usual. Normally, Izo would turn him back before his transformation was complete. Ace had never stayed a dragon for longer than a few minutes, except for the first time. Izo would only have let him stay a dragon this long if he had been held up, and it had to be a very good reason to endanger an entire town. Ace didn’t doubt that because he had stayed a dragon for longer than usual, it had taken up more of Izo’s power, which was why he looked so drained right now. Now wasn’t the time to talk, though.

He could never remember exactly what he did when he was a dragon, of which he was glad, but he did have vague memories. They came to him in flashes and were the source of the nightmares he had almost every night. He never talked about them, not even to Izo, but he knew that Izo knew he had them. After all, he often woke up screaming.

Izo smiled tiredly at him and slowly knelt down, along with Thatch. Ace turned his head and saw Marco sitting on the edge of the fountain in the middle of the square, or rather, what was left of it. He didn’t look at Ace. Ace felt a strange mixture of guilt and betrayal, even if Marco’s action was justified. It couldn’t be a nice surprise to find out one had slept with a dragon, after all.

“So, you’re actually a dragon,” Thatch finally broke the silence. “I’ve seen you turn back into a human, but it’s still kinda weird. I mean, an actual dragon. You know,” he continued musing, “it’s almost ironic you and Marco hooked up. I mean, he’s essentially a dragon hunter, after all.”

“Thatch,” Izo said softly, but Ace noticed the warning tone in his voice.

Thatch, however, seemed oblivious to it, as he continued, “I’m just saying, if he’s a dragon and he has slept with Marco, is that bestiality?”

“Thatch!” Izo hissed, his reprimanding tone now obvious.

Ace’s eyes flicked to Marco, who had stiffened. Obviously, he had followed the conversation and was not pleased with Thatch’s remark. Ace sighed. Marco probably wasn’t pleased with the entire situation, and Ace could imagine he would never want to speak to Ace again.

“Sorry,” Thatch apologised hastily. Whether he had picked up on the tension by himself or if Izo had given him a look, Ace didn’t know. “I was just thinking out loud.”

“How are you feeling, Ace?” Izo asked. He always asked that after he had transformed Ace back, and Ace always gave him the same answer.

“I’ll be fine,” he said as he sat up, the thin cloak covering him sliding down his chest. He recognised Izo’s cloak and silently thanked him, even if he was a little surprised when he saw the burned edges, though that could have happened when Izo turned him back. His clothes had been torn during the transformation, and by the looks of it, he was still lying on a square in the middle of town. It was strangely empty, but that was probably because the citizens didn’t know yet that the coast was clear. Izo had had to transform him back, and an empty square would be the best place to do it, not to be mistaken for an evil sorcerer, especially now that his mark was visible. “I’d feel better if I was wearing trousers, though,” he added.

Izo didn’t seem convinced, like he never was after Ace answered his question, but he didn’t say anything.

Thatch, who still had his arm wrapped around Izo’s shoulders to steady him, rose from his squatting position. “It might be best to go back to the inn, don’t you think? Marco, are you coming?” he called.

Marco didn’t reply.

“He’s just annoyed because he couldn’t beat you,” Thatch said cheerfully. “And because I saved Izo, who saved you, so you wouldn’t eat him. So technically, I’m the hero of this story.” He sounded proud.

Ace knew that wasn’t the only reason for Marco’s behaviour, but he also realised that Thatch was trying to distract him. He was doing a lousy job, since he referred to Ace’s transformation, but Ace could appreciate the effort. Additionally, Thatch confirmed that something had happened to Izo, something so bad he needed rescuing, because in the time Ace had known Izo, he had always been able to fight his own battles. Once more, however, Ace decided from refraining to ask questions until a more appropriate time. He tried to stand up, but his legs gave in and he fell onto his knees. He hated feeling so helpless and needing to depend on others, but what could he do?

Heavy footsteps came closer, but Marco remained out of reach. Ace averted his eyes, even though he could feel Marco’s stare on him. Thatch moved to help him up, but he was still holding Izo upright, so he had his hands full. Ace saw him looking at Marco as if he was trying to convey a message. From the corner of his eyes, he glanced at Marco, who was staring just as hard back at Thatch. The meaning of their silent discussion became clear when Thatch’s eyes flicked over at Ace before turning his gaze back at Marco. After several minutes, Marco finally sighed and knelt down next to Ace. Even though he had expected Marco to back down eventually, Ace still stiffened when he was scooped into Marco’s arms. Marco obviously wasn’t happy about it, but he still picked Ace up.

Ace noticed the hole in the coat of mail on Marco’s arm and his mind flashed back to their fight. He had clawed at Marco, but thanks to his healing powers, there was no wound in sight. Still, Ace could – and would – have killed him if Izo hadn’t intervened. Before he knew what he was doing, he gently caressed the damaged mail. “I’m sorry I damaged your armour,” he muttered. “And tried to eat you,” he added even softer.

Marco didn’t reply and just carried Ace towards his horse. Ace was relieved to see that the animal was unharmed, though he was less pleased with the rough way he was draped on it. Only a day before he would have snapped at Marco, but right now, he didn’t feel like it. He felt drained, empty. The one person he started to care about had found out his secret and he reacted in the way that Ace had expected. Marco was disgusted with him, or worse, with himself, for sleeping with Ace. While Thatch’s remark hadn’t been accurate, it was easy to leap to that conclusion. Not for the first time, the thought that people would be better off without him surfaced. Izo cared for him, he knew that, but his life would definitely be easier without Ace. He had Thatch now, after all. And Marco… The connection Ace had felt last night had vanished when his secret came out. Who would want to get involved with a monster like him? It would have been better if he had never been born.

He knew that Izo knew what was going on inside his head, but thankfully, Izo didn’t say anything around Marco and Thatch. They walked to the inn in silence, Izo still being held up by Thatch. Ace could see the extent of his destruction, and his stomach twisted as he saw bodies lying in the streets, trampled by people trying to flee the city. Even if he hadn’t killed those people himself, he was still responsible for their deaths. They didn’t encounter anyone on their way to the inn, but it wouldn’t be long before the inhabitants would return to the town now that the danger had passed. There was a lot to do before sundown, like extinguishing fires and making preparations for the burials of the dead.

At the inn, Ace felt strong hands helping him off the horse, but he was disappointed to find out that they belonged to Thatch. Marco walked away with his horse, probably to bring it to the stables, while Thatch helped both Izo and Ace up the stairs. Ace was still only wearing Izo’s robe, which he pulled tightly around him. Taking them both up the stairs wasn’t an easy feat for Thatch, but he managed and left them in the room Thatch and Izo had occupied, or so Ace assumed, because it wasn’t the room he had shared with Marco. The room looked the same as the one he spend the previous night in, insofar he had been able to pay any attention to it.

Memories from the night before played before his mind’s eye, reminding him how amazing it had been to be in Marco’s arms, to feel his body move against Ace’s. He didn’t want to think about it, knowing it would never happen again. He let himself fall on one of the beds and turned his back to Izo and Thatch. He could hear Izo whisper something to Thatch, but it wasn’t meant for his ears even if he could hear it. The last thing he heard was the door of the room closing silently.

* * *

Ace woke up again a few hours later, judging by the reddish light shining through the window. It was probably sundown by now. Izo was lying in the other bed in the room, reading a book. He looked less pale than before, even if he hadn’t cleaned himself up yet.

Ace contemplated pretending he was still asleep, but his throat was raw from thirst and there was a water skin lying next to him. He reached for it and drank until his thirst was quenched. Then he wiped his mouth.

Izo had placed his book upside down on his lap and looked at Ace. Ace couldn’t read his expression and he decided he didn’t want to know either, so he turned around in his bed and pulled the blanket over himself. He didn’t want to think, but his treacherous brain kept playing events of that day before his mind’s eye. First there were memories from his night with Marco and the morning after, the slight pull at his necklace that had ruined everything. Ace knew it hadn’t been Marco’s fault; the magic had worn off from the beads, so the briefest of touches would have broken it. If it hadn’t been Marco, it would have been Ace himself who broke the string. Still, he wondered what would have happened if the necklace hadn’t broken at that point. He would have had a nice breakfast with Marco, and after perhaps another round in the sack. Izo and Thatch would have joined them for lunch, no doubt, and if the necklace had broken then, Izo would be able to undo the transformation before it started. Ace knew Izo had a spare necklace with him at all time, one he only had to enchant when the one Ace wore broke. Ace would have been happy. People would still have been alive and the town not destroyed.

Obviously, that was not what had happened. Ever since Ace was cursed, he had noticed his happiness never lasted long, so why would this time be any different? His friends and family from when he was still human were long dead, not that Ace had been able to return to them after he had been transformed into a dragon. The troupes he and Izo had travelled with had all abandoned them, either because of mistrust or when the troupe was disbanded because of old age. Izo was all Ace had left in the world, and now he was in love with Thatch. He would either leave Ace, or Ace would be forced to go with him. Marco would be there too and things would be awkward to say the least. Marco hated him and was disgusted by him. Things would have been better if Marco had killed him as a dragon. Or before that, if he had killed Ace when he had planned to do so, none of this would have happened. Ace wouldn’t have gotten his hopes up that he finally would be happy, and many people would still be alive. Better yet, if Izo had let the elves kill him all those decades ago, he wouldn’t have ruined the lives of so many people, Izo included.

“Ace.” Izo’s voice sounded clear through the room. Even though Ace didn’t want to, he still pulled back the blanket and looked at Izo. “I know what you’re thinking, and I want you to stop it.”

Ace clenched his jaw and kept silent.

Izo tossed away his blanket and rose, only to sit down on the edge of Ace’s bed. Gently, he caressed Ace’s hair. “It’s not your fault what happened.”

“Tell that to the families of the people I killed,” Ace said bitterly.

Izo sighed. “Ace, you know it’s the fault of the people who did those experiments on you.”

“You should have let me die,” Ace suddenly snapped. “I wish I’d died back there. I wish I’d never been born!” He covered his face with his hands and took a few shaky breaths. He didn’t want to cry, he wasn’t worth self-pity.

Izo wrapped his arms around him and gently rocked him to and fro. “I’m glad you’re alive,” he whispered, and Ace could hear his voice tremble slightly. “It’s because of you I’ve made it this far. Without you, I would have gone mad. I would have turned into the monster they branded me for, because I would have nothing to lose.” He took Ace’s face into his hands and forced him to look at him. “I wish I could have changed you back sooner,” he said sadly. “I’m sorry.”

“Where were you?” Ace whispered. “Why weren’t you there?”

Izo let go of his face and looked away. “I tried to change you back, but people saw my mark and assumed I was the one controlling you.”

Ace’s eyes widened.

“They tried to burn me at the stake. Luckily, Thatch was able to save me.” Izo tried to sound light-hearted, failing miserably. It was obvious he had been sure he would have died today, had Thatch not intervened.

“So it’s because of me you almost died,” Ace whispered. He could almost feel the dark thoughts dragging him down again, but Izo pulled him out again.

“No,” he said earnestly. “It’s because those men branded me as a necromancer. Ace, they are the ones who did this to us, and they will burn in hell for it.”

Ace remained silent while Izo continued to caress his hair. Finally, Ace asked, “So what will happen now?”

“The same as we’d planned before this happened.”

“Would that be before or after we met Thatch and Marco?” Ace asked bitterly.

“After of course.”

Ace let out a humourless laugh. “Do you really think either of them wants anything to do with me anymore? I mean, Thatch maybe, but Marco…” His mind flashed back to Marco fighting him in dragon form. He could only imagine how he would have reacted when Izo transformed him back. Ace was glad he had been unconscious then.

“Marco’ll come around. You need to give him time,” Izo said soothingly. “It’s not every day that your lover turns out to be a dragon. I mean, I doubt that was what he expected when you said you could swallow him whole.” Izo was trying very hard to hide his smile, but failed.

“That’s not funny,” Ace snapped, but then he sighed. “He has every right to be disgusted by me.”

“I’m sure he isn’t. Marco’s a reasonable man. He will give you a chance to explain, and he’ll see it’s not your fault.”

Ace gave him a long stare. “You’re just saying that because you want to stay with Thatch.”

“I won’t lie to you, I do. I think…” Izo seemed to hesitate for a moment before he continued. “I think he’s my soulmate. There, I said it.”

Ace looked at him confused. “Soulmate? How do you know that? You’ve only known him for a few days.”

“That’s true,” Izo took a deep breath, “but when I was tied at the stake, I sent Onyx to Thatch. I’m not sure why, to say goodbye, I suppose, even if no one can see her. But he… He could see her. She brought him to me.”

“What?! Even I’ve never seen her,” Ace exclaimed indignantly, momentarily forgetting his misery. “That’s so unfair!”

Izo let out a chuckle. “What, do you want to be my soulmate?” Then he continued with a more serious face. “I would like to stay with Thatch, Ace, I really do.”

Ace cast his look down. “I know. I didn’t expect anything else. You know I need to be near you not to have a repetition of what happened today.”

“I want you near me, Ace. You’re not a duty or a burden.”

Ace looked away again. “I’ll try my best to make it up with Marco, but I doubt we’ll work out as a couple. But it’s like I said before, just because you found your soulmate in Thatch, doesn’t mean I have to be in love as well.”

There was an almost inaudible knock on the door, but Ace heard it anyway, even if Izo didn’t. The door opened slightly, but even though he was hidden by the shadow, Ace still recognised the blue eyes visible in the last sunlight.

“I can come back,” Marco said, but Izo, who had now noticed him as well, rose.

“Nonsense. You two need to talk and I need a wash.” Izo picked up his cloak that was lying on the floor, fastening it to hide the mark on his neck. Outside, voices and other sounds could be heard, indicating that the townspeople had returned now that the dragon was gone.

It didn’t seem like Ace had a choice in the matter as Izo strolled past Marco, exchanging a look with him. Marco entered the room and closed the door behind him. He was holding a plate of food, and only now Ace realised he was hungry again. He didn’t think he had eaten anyone, so that meant he hadn’t eaten all day, since he had transformed before breakfast. Marco handed him the plate silently, and Ace expected him to leave again, but instead, Marco sat down on the bed Izo had previously occupied. He cast a glance at the book Izo had been reading when Ace woke up.

Ace started to scarf down the food, though the plate was hardly enough to fill him, even if Marco had piled so much food on it that the edge of the plate was hardly visible. All the while, Marco kept silent. He wasn’t wearing his armour anymore, just regular, albeit fancy looking, clothes. Finally, when Ace placed the plate on the floor and picked up the water skin again to drink, Marco cleared his throat.

“I want to apologise for my behaviour earlier.”

Ace almost choked on the water. An apology was the last thing he had expected. Then again, he had also expected Marco to stay as far away as possible from him. Maybe Thatch had put him up to bringing Ace food, but Marco hardly had a reason to stay, much less to apologise. He wiped the water away that had dribbled down his chin. “You’ve nothing to apologise for,” he said softly and stared at his lap. “I shouldn’t have let things go that far last night.”

“I very much enjoyed last night,” Marco said, surprising Ace once again. “Not just the sex – though that was great too – but everything. I really felt like there was a connection between us.” He rubbed at his temples. “What I hadn’t expected was for you to turn into a dragon. I’ve never seen someone transform into one. I still have trouble processing it.”

Ace kept silent for a moment. Izo had said that Marco deserved an explanation, and he was inclined to agree. Moreover, Marco was giving him a chance to explain himself. Ace had never talked about what happened to anyone, hardly even to Izo. Perhaps it would be therapeutic. After all, he had already blown his chance with Marco, so what harm could it do.

Taking a deep breath, Ace tried to swallow the lump in his throat away. “I wasn’t always like this,” he finally managed to say. “I used to be human, a long time ago. One day, I got in a bit of trouble when I set something on fire, and I was captured. I figured I’d be thrown in jail for a while, but that was not exactly what happened. I was taken to some secret place, where many criminals, witches and elementals were held. Humans were at war with centaurs at the time, and losing badly. The only way they would be able to get the upper hand was to invent some kind of super weapon. That was where we came in. The powers of the witches like Izo and elementals were researched in cruel ways, while us humans were used to experiment upon, to give us magic powers we weren’t born with. They started out with just human experimentation, so I was there longer than Izo was. The runes on my back…” His voice faltered for a moment, but he wanted to push through, He would finally tell his story. Swallowing hard, he continued, “The runes on my back are ancient magic, forbidden because it is too dangerous. Somehow, the humans found a way to bring it back after it was destroyed by the Council of Magic a long time ago. They tried to make us into human weapons. If we could turn into dragons, there would be no way the humans lost the war. They didn’t care how many of us died in the process. We were criminals anyway, so who cared about us?” His eyes were sad, and he sighed. “I was lucky I survived, or perhaps unlucky I didn’t die in the process. I’m not sure which one. But I’m the only one, as far as I know, who transformed and lived to tell the tale. A group of elves found out what the humans were up to and put a stop to it, saving us. For me, it was too late. They couldn’t control me and didn’t think I was worth the trouble, so they intended to kill me. Izo disagreed and saved me.”

It stayed silent for a while after Ace was done with his story. He could imagine Marco needed some time to process everything.

Finally, Marco said slowly, “I remember that war. I was only little when it started, but it lasted for many years. Humans were constantly at war with other species or each other, though I never fought in this particular one.”

Somehow, Ace felt relief wash over him at Marco’s words. If Marco had fought for the humans who did this to him, even if it was just for money, it would feel like betrayal.

“I’d never have imagined that humans would go as far as experimenting on their own kind, though,” Marco continued musing. “I’ve never heard of human super weapons, so the elves must have made sure it stayed quiet.”

Ace shrugged. He had no idea what had happened to the other rescued people after Izo and he left the elven village, or to the people that had done the experiments. Ace liked to imagine they got what they deserved from the elves, but he couldn’t be sure. He had never left Izo’s side, no matter how badly he had wanted to go home, to his friends and family. After all, he would only endanger them since he couldn’t control his power.

They fell silent once again. Ace wasn’t sure what to say or do. He felt like a weight had lifted off his shoulders now that he had finally told his story to someone, but he had no idea what Marco was thinking. Suddenly, Marco moved, sitting down on the edge of Ace’s bed which Izo had occupied only minutes before. Ace moved backward out of instinct, but Marco didn’t come any closer. He was unarmed anyway.

“Are you afraid of me?” he asked, sounding more curious than anything else.

“Are you of me?” Ace flung back. “Because you should be. I may not remember much from when I was a dragon, but I know I had you pinned and was ready to kill you.”

Marco studied his face carefully, before he replied, “I’m not afraid of you. You don’t want to harm people, and it’s not your fault that you did. I can see in your eyes how much you hate it.”

“My eyes?” Ace scoffed. “My eyes are those of a dragon. They didn’t use to have this colour. They were… grey, I think?” He let out a humourless laugh. “It’s been too long, I can’t even remember that.” He looked Marco straight in the eyes. “I’m a monster, and you should fear me.”

Marco moved so quick, Ace didn’t have time to respond or protest when he pressed his lips against Ace’s. It was only a quick peck and he immediately moved back.

Ace blinked, flabbergasted, and his hand carefully touched his lips. “Wha–?”

Marco just smirked. “I like a little danger.” While Ace tried to gather his wits again, he continued, “It’s like I said, I think we have a connection. I don’t often have that with people, so I was hoping we could explore it some more. If you’ll have me, that is. Your past is horrible, and while I can’t make that right, I hope I can help make your future better.”

Ace opened and closed his mouth a few times, probably looking a lot like a fish out of the water. Finally, he managed to form a semi-intelligent sentence. “But… I don’t understand. You know what I am, what I could do to you, or anyone, for that matter. So why would you want me?”

“I already told you that.”

“But… I don’t _understand_ ,” Ace whined.

Marco just laughed and caressed Ace’s cheek with his hand. “I hope you’ll see what I see in time,” he said cryptically.

Ace pouted.

“I do have one question, though,” Marco said. “Your transformation started when the necklace broke, yes? So you can’t control it?”

“If I could, I wouldn’t have destroyed a town today,” Ace all but snapped.

“Have you ever tried to _learn_ to control it?”

Ace opened his mouth to reply, but then closed it again. He had, in the beginning, made a half-hearted attempt to learn it, but it was hard and Izo was always there, so what was the use? “I _tried_ ,” he said hesitantly.

“Am I wrong to think that you didn’t really try, because if you did, you thought Izo would have no reason to stay with you?” Marco asked, poking right through Ace’s words.

Ace bit his lower lip as he averted his eyes. Damn, why did Marco have to be so insightful? They’d only known each other for a short time, so how did he do that? “That doesn’t mean I _can_ control it,” he huffed, crossing his arms before his chest.

“I’d like to help you train, if that’s okay with you,” Marco continued. “And Izo’s not going anywhere. I know you can do it, Ace, even if it may not be easy at first.”

“But…” Ace protested, but he knew that he didn’t have a leg to stand on. After all, there was no harm in trying, and Marco was willing to help him. Slowly, he nodded. Things felt so surreal. Marco was at his side, he had even _kissed_ him, despite knowing what Ace truly was. And he wanted to help him. The fact that he would accept Ace so easily was hard to imagine.

“I’ve killed many people in my life,” Marco said. “It may have been of my own free will, but I’m not proud of it. I am the last person who would judge you.”

Somehow, it seemed like Marco had said what Ace needed to hear. He dove on top of Marco, realising too late he was still naked, but he didn’t care right now. This time, he caught Marco off guard by kissing him. Marco recovered quickly, however, kissing him back.

* * *

The next day, they decided to leave Sabaody behind. After their talk, Marco had fetched Ace’s clothes from the room they had shared the night before, before going downstairs to have dinner. Second dinner for Ace, technically, but he hardly complained. Thatch and Izo had been in the other room they rented, as Izo wasn’t keen on showing his face in public after almost being burned to death. Despite that, Izo had had trouble choosing between being happy for Ace and gloating that he was right about Marco. He decided to interchange the two.

Marco had bought Izo a horse, as he didn’t allow Thatch to buy a single horse ever again. Ace was happy with his earth elemental pony, though. As they left Sabaody, life seemed to have returned to normal. Everyone had returned to the city. The buildings that had been damaged were being restored, or if they had been too damaged, torn down to be rebuilt. The dead had been buried. Still, Ace looked at the damage he had caused with a sinking feeling in his stomach. Marco placed a hand on his shoulder and Izo squeezed his hand. Taking a deep breath, Ace looked back once more, before focusing on what lay ahead.

They had decided to return to Thatch’s castle, because Thatch was dying to show it to Izo. Marco and Thatch had fulfilled the quest they had set out to do, more or less - Marco had fought a dragon after all - and they didn’t want to stay away too long. Even if Teach was long dead, if people found out the ‘monster’ was gone, they might want to take over the castle.

During their journey, Marco started the training regime with Ace. He was strict, but the rewards were well worth the effort. Izo had never asked Ace if he could learn to control his powers, and Ace had never told him about his half-hearted attempt, but Izo watched on, intrigued by his progress. They started off slow, taking Ace’s necklace off for a few seconds at the time, before making it minutes. Whether he would ever be able to walk around without the necklace, Ace didn’t know, but at least he slowly learned to hold back the transformation for longer and longer. While they were training, Izo and Thatch seemed to have a training of their own, in which they worked on Thatch’s powers. Neither of them talked about it much, so Ace and Marco didn’t pry.

Neither Ace nor Izo had ever been in a castle before, and they excitedly started to explore Thatch’s home once they arrived. They soon enough found a room each to their liking and claimed it as their own. If Ace had thought the training would stop once they reached the castle, he was dead wrong. Marco seemed to enjoy it a little too much at times, but now that they had more privacy, the rewards turned into something they both enjoyed.

It was when they had lived together for about a year that Thatch called them all together into the great hall. He had an uncharacteristically serious look on his face, and the others exchanged a confused look.

“Word has reached us that the king has passed,” Thatch said.

Ace and Izo looked at each other, unaware of the meaning behind that sentence, but Marco understood.

“So you’re planning to go to the capital?” he asked.

“To attend the funeral?” Ace asked confusedly.

Thatch looked at Marco, who just shrugged. “That too,” he said slowly. “But… There is something I didn’t tell you. I’m next in line to the throne.”

Izo just stared at him.

“People aren’t too happy about that, because I’m a dark elemental, but they can’t deny my right. That’s the whole reason Marco was initially sent to kill me, to prevent me from taking over. I don’t doubt the assassination attempts will stop, even after I’m crowned, so I could use a good knight.” He looked at Marco.

Marco’s eyes widened in surprise, as if he had never considered the possibility that he would ever become a true knight. Then he smirked and bowed. “Of course, _Your Highness_.”

Thatch grinned back before looking at Izo and Ace. “A witch and a dragon would come in handy as well.”

Ace snorted and elbowed Izo in the ribs. “I can’t believe you hooked a king while I have to make do with a knight,” he said jokingly.

Marco’s eyes narrowed, but he couldn’t hide his happiness over the fact that he would truly become a knight.

Finally, Izo, who hadn’t said a word since they had entered the hall, reacted. “As long as you don’t think that I’ll call you Your Majesty,” he said with a huff to Thatch. “Not in private, anyway.”

Thatch laughed and stretched out his arm invitingly to Izo, who took a seat next to him on the wide throne.

Ace wrapped his arms around Marco’s neck and kissed him. “I might call you Sir,” he whispered in Marco’s ear.

That evening, they held a banquet in Thatch’s and Marco’s honour, knowing that the next time they would do that, there would be a lot more people present. Despite the prospect of assassination attempts, Thatch seemed to be excited, probably because they had all decided to come with him, and because he could make Marco’s lifelong dream of becoming a knight come true. However, despite the festive mood, they decided to go to bed early, as they still had a lot of packing to do. It was a long journey to the capital, after all.


End file.
